Auxilia
by T.j.98
Summary: Accidents happen to everyone. Usually they are small; like spilling a glass of milk. Other times they are big, like a wrestling match ending with a dead classmate. When Peeta Mellark was at the wrong place at the wrong time, he expected execution. Instead, as a result of the Auxilia Program, he found himself on the other side of the country and in the uniform of a Peacekeeper.
1. Chapter 1:Accidents happen

I did not want to hurt anyone.

I did not intend to be a murderer.

It started as a normal day not unlike any other. I still remember the warmth of the oven that I baked bread in. I was excited because there was a wrestling match at school today, and it's one of the few things I am not a pathetic disappointment at. My opponent was Jack Green, an acquaintance who was in the same class as me. It was supposed to be a clean match. We even shook hands beforehand as a gesture of mutual good will.

I did not intend to break his neck.

I have been locked in this cell for eight hours, and I still have not stopped crying. My eyes are sore, and the sleeves of my orange prisoner shirt are soaked through. The cell I am in is damp and cold, but I do not notice either of these things beyond shivering as I cry. I wish they would just put a bullet in the back of my head and get it over with!

It's not like I have anything to live for: my own mother has been telling me for years that she does not love me and that nobody will miss me if I die. I could not even muster up the courage to tell Katniss that I have always been in love with her. Probably for the best: there is no way anyone would ever want to marry me. No woman wants to marry a pathetic weakling, and certainly not one with blood on his hands.

Not that it matters; in a few hours one of the peacekeepers is going to execute me and everything will be over.

I can already hear his footsteps as he walks down the hallway. Soon he will lead me to the stage where I will get my brains blown out in front of a cheering crowd.

This is how it ends.

A Peacekeeper leads me to a room where. I guess this is where they will put a bullet in my skull.

"Undress." I do not know what to expect when the Peacekeeper says this, and I am paralyzed with fear.

"I said Undress." Without telling them to do so, my,arms begin to take off my orange prisoner clothes.

A doctor walks in. He prods and examines me for some unknown purpose, asking me questions about my health. I am able to whimper out answers, but I do now know the purpose of all this. My answers come out in stutters because of both fear and cold.

"How old are you?"

"Si-si-si-sixteen."

"Are you married or betrothed?"

"N-n-n-no."

"Okey. Do you consume alcohol or other hazardous substances?"

"N-n-n-n-n-no."

"Okey. How many people have you had sex with?"

"N-none."

"Do you have any disabilities like asthma?

"N-n-no."

I am a little bothered by the peacekeepers seeing me this way and by the personal nature of the questions the doctor is asking, but not nearly as bothered as I am by the coldness of the room. Now my shivering is out of control. Next one of them uses a syringe to take blood out of my arm, and I am told to wait in this room.

"Put your clothes on and wait in here." They say this as they leave and lock the door behind me.

I put my clothes back on, and I wait for the end.

* * *

**Authors Note: As you can see, Peeta Mellark is and always has been a paragon of self esteem. **


	2. Chapter 2:An offer that can't be refused

They lead me into the office of a peacekeeper, and they leave and close the door behind them. By the look of his uniform, I can tell that this peacekeeper is probably of a higher rank than others. By the look of how clean his uniform is, I can tell that he arrived fairly recently.

"Please, sit down." His voice is unsettlingly calm, and it is clear that he has all the leverage over me in this situation.

I sit down and try not to look at him. What glimpses I do get are enough to conform my that this man is assured of his leverage. He continues.

"I am sure you know why you were arrested."

An image of Jack's cold dead skin and of his lifeless eyes flashes through my mind. Dehydration is all that keeps from breaking into tears.

"Yes."

The Peacekeeper continues.

"Normally, punishment for this would be severe. But today is your lucky day."

This catches my suspicion. I didn't commit treason, so they can not just make me an Avox. Right?

They are the Capitol. They spent seventy four years doing whatever the hellfire they want.

But I'm not important. I'm just a common murderer.

But-

No. Don't think about it. Just breathe in, and breath out. Breath in, and breath out.

If the Peacekeeper can hear my obvious hyperventilating, he makes no mention of it in what he says next.

"What I am offering you is an opportunity of a lifetime. Not only will you get to live, but you also get to see the world, earn money and have a comfortable living. I am offering you a chance to be a peacekeeper."

Wait? What?!

Why would they offer me a job as a Peacekeeper? I do not want to be a peacekeeper!

But I want to live.

I ask cautiously, "What if I say no?"

The Peacekeeper answered in his usual calm voice.

"I've seen a lot of people executed for killing someone. Some were full grown men, some were old, some were just boys who were younger than you. Do you know,what they all had in common? Well they all died in the end, but thats not the only thing; they all said that it wasn't their fault."

"I'm under no delusion of innocence."

"But if you are a Peacekeeper, you can live a full life. If you are stubborn, if you make a foolish decision, than you'll be dead just like the others."

From watching the Hunger Games, I know what a dead person looks like. I do not want to be dead yet. I want to live.

But I don't want to be a Peacekeeper.

"Can I have some time to think about it?"

"Of course, that's reasonable. Just wait in here; I'll be back in five hours."

Five hours. Depending on my choice, it could be the last five hours I have.


	3. Chapter 3:Travel thoughts

I sit in a hovercraft, exhausted but not wanting to sleep. In my head are visions of Jack, cold and dead by my hands.

I have never been on a hovercraft before. For that matter, I have never been on any mode of transportation other than walking on foot. The hovercraft is smooth, to the point where the noises it produces are the only indication whatsoever that it is even moving.

After five hours of thinking it over, I reluctantly chose to live. Even if I know that I am worthless, I still can not bring myself to take my life or to willfully allow others to do so. It is as though the instinctual part of me wants to stay alive. But now that I accepted the job, I have a whole different concern on my mind.

I am worried that the Capitol will try to change me, try to turn me into a pawn that they can use to hurt others. I do not want to become someone who tries to maim and kill other humans. Even if I have to be a peacekeeper, I will not let myself become a piece in their sadistic games.

My thoughts are briefly interrupted by the intercom. "In just a few hours we will be entering District 2."

I am almost certainly never going to see my home again. My father, my brothers; I am never going to see any of them again. I will probably never see Katniss again.

To make matters worse, not a single one of them even have the slightest idea what happened; I never got to see any of them before the Peacekeepers dragged me away. I never got a chance to tell them I love them, or that I did not mean to kill Jack. They will spend the rest of their lives thinking I acted out of malice.

I guess I should be considering myself lucky they took me away before my mother could find out about it.

I was unaware that I dosed off, at least until I wake up with surprise. I am still in the hovercraft, I am still headed to be a Peacekeeper. After twenty years, I will be forced to live out the remainder of my days in District 2.

At least I'm not going to be an Avox.


	4. Chapter 4:Introduction

"In two years each one of you will be either driven out or turned into the roughest Sons of Bitches to wear White."

This is how we are introduced to our instructor, Major Trajan Campbell. He is a man who appears to be in his late forties. His voice is also calm, but unlike the Peacekeeper who recruited me, Campbell's calmness makes me feel strong rather than weak.

"You men are under my command. I do not care what crime you may have committed that landed you in the Auxilia Program; from this day onward you are different men. You are going to work like you never worked before, pushing yourself to the limits. You will learn to live in a barracks. You will learn to use a weapon. You will learn to dress, behave, and think like a Peacekeeper should. Most importantly, you will learn to fight, live, and die as comrades. When these two years are complete, you will be deployed do a place in Panem where you will spend the remaining eighteen years of your service and where you will use everything we have taught you here as well as a few things you already have to have inside of you."

As Major Campbell was speaking, he was standing walking down and back up the line we had formed into.

"As Peacekeepers, you are now training to be members of the greatest fighting force on Earth. The Peacekeepers have been around for centuries, and I doubt they'll be going away anytime soon. As Peacekeepers, we get our strength from our camaraderie. This means you will be required to work together, live together, and depend in each other. Trust that your comrade is willing to lay down his life for you, and be willing to do the same."

I previously did not know that Peacekeepers placed value on unity. I assumed that the institution as a whole had no redeeming qualities. They still might have none, but I have two years to see whether or not Major Campbell is lying.

"If war breaks out and Panem is threatened by an enemy either external or internal, you will have to fight to defend her. You will do this because if Panem is forced to endure a rebellion or an invasion, than innocent civilians will die."

I am a little skeptical. The peacekeepers I have known have shown no regard for human life, and I doubt they care enough about protecting civilians to stand against the Hunger Games.

"Above all, behave honorably. You will learn about our history later, but for now remember that without honor we have nothing."

After that, he allows us to go to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5:First day

The signal to wake up sounded, and I groaned. I did not want to wake up.

I do not want to acknowledge that my crime, arrest, and sentencing were anything more than a very bad dream. Maybe if I keep my eyes closed it will turn out to all be a dream.

This only works for four seconds until I get up.

We all line up in front of our bunks, and I realize that in my state of exhaustion I did not take stalk of the room I am in.

It is a concrete bunk room, with fifteen bunk beds on one side the room and some tables with chairs on the other side so that an walkway is formed in-between the two rows. The walkway leads from the door at one end of the room to a termination at the other end when it hits the concrete wall. Underneath each bottom bunk are two metal chests, the purpose of which I do not know.

Major Campbell walks down the line, asking each person his name and District of origin. There can not possibly be more than twenty of us, and I am the forth person he asked.

"What is your name? From where do you hail?"

"Gregory Black. District 7."

"What is your name? From where do you hail?"

"Nero Mariner. District 4."

"What is your name? From where do you hail?"

"Crassus Robinson. District 11."

"What is your name? From where do you hail?"

"Peeta Mellark. District 12."

"What is your name? From where do you hail?"

"Ronald Brandwine. District 5."

"What is your name? From where do you hail?"

"Conner Loom. District 8."

"What is your name? From where do you hail?"

On and on, all the way to twenty six names.

I wonder if all these people also killed someone.

I thought Major Campbell was only asking this for the sole purpose of writing it down, but when he gets the last name and district he gives us a statement instead of a question.

"You are all from different Districts. The Peacekeepers are what bind you together."

We murmur in confusion, but Major Campbell moves on to the next subject.

"Today we are going to learn how to make our beds. Gather around and pay attention."

He walks up to the twenty seventh bed, which for some reason is messy. Either he himself slept in it, or more likely, he told one of the Avox's to sleep in it for him just so he can demonstrate how to make it.

"Now, this is how a peacekeeper makes his bed."

Step by step, he demonstrates how to make a bed.

"Now your turn."

We go to make our beds. I make mine step by step, being sure to follow the same pattern Major Campbell used.

Once we all finish, Major Campbell walks by the bunk beds and inspects each one.

If he walks by one and does not comment, we can tell that that bed was made properly. If he makes a comment, we have to make our bed again from scratch. Usually he has a comment.

"The corner is not tucked in. Do it again."

"The sheets are in the wrong order. Do it again."

"It's like you're not even trying. Do it again."

"You were too slow. Do it again and this time do it in only two minutes."

"The comforter sheet is facing the wrong way. Do it again."

After the beds are re made, he repeated the process. Fewer people made mistakes.

The third time around, all the beds were made to an acceptable standard.

"Good, that that is out of the way, I will show you what you can expect when you are stationed in a District. Follow me."

We follow him, and he leads us to a hallway. It has two doors on the left side, two on the right side, and a large set of double doors at the end of it. He points to the close door on the left.

"This room is where you will be eating your meals. It is the mess hall."

He points to the far door on the left.

"Is is the training room, it is where you will hone the skills needed to survive as Peacekeepers."

He points to the far door on the right.

"That is the locker room, where you will find weapons, armor, uniforms, and other necessities. It also leads to the Misting room, where you will get cleaned off without having to shower. He locker room It is connected to the storage room, which is over there."

We follow him to the double doors at the end of the hallway, and he opens them and leads us outside.

I can see we are in the shadow of a massive mountain, one which is covered in ancient forests. Even from this angle, I can see signs of habitation on the mountain and suspect people live within.

"What you boys are looking at is Acroplis mountain; on the other side of this mountain is the Central City of District 2. The mountain has its name because inside of it is The Acropolis. This massive underground fortress is essentially the heart of District 2 and of the Peacekeepers. Build ten thousand years ago, this structure originated as a headquarters for the North American Aerospace Defense Command, which was tasked with protecting the continent from nuclear bombardment; the facility was forgotten because the North Americans of antiquity fell from danger within.

Three quarters of a century ago, this facility was uncovered when quarrying operations came upon the ruins. It was rebuilt and used as a center of commands during the Dark Days, when rebel factions attempted to destroy Panem. Since then, it has been upgraded and expanded countless times over. It can house not only the majority of the peacekeeper army, but also included the Hovercraft Fleet of the Peacekeepers, the nations largest military hospital, computer terminals for data storage, and bunkers to hold the majority of the population of District 2. It has a stockpile of weapons and food to withstand a siege of close to twenty years, and is the meeting place of the Headpeacekeeper Council.

To its south is the Central city of District 2, to its west is the main training camp. Just north if the Main Training Camp is the Career training facility of District 2. We are in the Auxilia Training Camp, just north of the Acropolis. We will transfer to the main Training a Camp after you learn the basics."

We look around in the other directions, and see that the area is surrounded by forest.

After we take it all in, Major Campbell leads us to the mess hall for breakfast.

"Stand in line and hold a food tray. The Avox will place food onto the tray, providing you with the nutrients needed to get through the day. The main part of the meal will be a mush; it doesn't taste like grandma's cooking, but it will keep you fit and strong throughout the day. In Career Districts, as well as Districts where food is produced, it will be supplemented with local quinine. You are permitted to talk amongst yourselves during the time you will spend eating lunch."

When Campbell said it was bland, he was making an understatement. It tasted like it was never alive to begin with. But it is not stale, so that is a net positive. We are all so hungry, no talking occurs during the first meal we spend together.


	6. Chapter 6:Basic training

The days of the first four months melt together as I fall into routine. Over the months I learned many things that I will need as a Peacekeeper.

On one day I learned how to properly dress myself in the different Peacekeeper Uniforms. It turns our that the Peacekeeper Armor makes dressing harder than it would be for a civilian. There are four uniforms a Peacekeeper can expect to wear during his career. The first is the on-duty uniform, which includes armor and is worn during he day. The second is the off-duty uniform, which is worn when a Peacekeeper retires or visits home: not that I will ever get to return to District 12. The third is the dress uniform, which is only worn during ceremonies or other special occasions. The last is the sleeping jumpsuit, and I should not have to explain when I need to wear it.

The uniform and armor felt heavy and uneasy the first time I put it on, as the added weight put me off balance. Major Campbell chuckled, saying that it would become "like a second skin". While I did get used to it, it took longer than he predicted.

On another day I learned how to stand at attention; yes, there is only one right way to stand: shoulders back, head raised, back strait, legs together, and my hands had better not be in my pockets. If a single aspect of this is off, than in am doing it wrong.

Since there is a correct way to stand, there is also a correct way to march. In fact, there are different ways to march for different situations. There was a march for getting from point A to point B practically, and a march for doing that through rough terrain, and a march used specifically in parades.

For a few weeks I had to spend time learning about District 2 and it's history. We watched videos, listened to lectures, and read primary sources. We were all shocked to learn about the rebellion of the Dark Days. At first I was skeptical, but after so many primary sources I began to think that there is some truth to this (even if it is under a thick coating of propaganda).

The rebellion of the Dark Days commit a long list of atrocities that range from cruel to inhumanly sadistic.

In Districts Ten, Eleven, and Nine, the people were forced to work day and night. They were given more land to work, but had to 'donate' ninety seven of their produce to the war effort. This meant that they had more work and gained less from it. Some actually starved to death, and there were cases of people in District 11 digging up corpses to eat.

During the District 1 massacre, the rebel general there actually encouraged his soldiers to rape woman and even little girls. In fact, the rebels seemed to have used rape as a campaign tactic.

During the march through District 2, massive extermination took place and entire civilian populations were killed off. Sometimes they would even get a village to surrender by promising to spare them, and then break said promise and exterminate them anyway.

Of course, all of this lead to the rebellion splintering into three factions which fought more amongst themselves than against the Capitol

When the rebels could not enter the Capitol, then began shelling it from the surrounding mountain range. They used a mixture of common artillery shells and biological warfare canisters. We actually saw pictures of children and civilians who looked horridly mutilated by the mustard gas or by shell burns.

As the rebels started getting pushed back, they got desperate. At District 11, all the loyalist Prisoners Of War (which included woman, children, and even fellow rebels who were accused of 'cowardice') were impaled on wooden stakes. Their corpses were left for the peacekeepers to find, as the rebels were hoping this would horrify them into retreat. It did the opposite, making them even more pissed off and I have to admit justifiably so.

All in all, the civilian death toll was in the higher millions by the time the war ended.

While I can not correctly gauge whether or not the rebels back then had the right to overthrow the Capitol (I was not there and therefore I do not know how bad it was), clearly the tactics they used made them just as bad as their enemies and probably cost them the war. If I was fighting in a war and my enemies were pulling this type of shit, than I would rather die in battle than surrender. As evident from the hundreds of loyalist last stands that took place all over Panem, I can see why they came to the same conclusion.

The lessons on rebel brutality were juxtaposed with tales of Peacekeepers acting bravely. We read primary sources of Peacekeepers in rebel held District 2 either making a last stand or acting as loyalist partisans.

This is not to say that the Capitol is any better (well, the curriculum may say exactly that, but I do not agree with that sentiment); it is unfair to punish us for the crimes of our ancestors. I do not think anyone is alive today who actually supported the rebellion in the Dark Days, so I doubt a single person in the Hunger Games was guilty of the crimes they are being executed for. And it is a bit harsh to exterminate an entire District without at least offering them a chance to surrender.

Finally I had to spend a large amount of time sitting outside and listening to Major Campbell give lectures on rules and protocol that a Peacekeeper is to abide by.

Some of the rules seem like common sense. Do not murder civilians without just cause, do not extort money from civilians, do not rape, do not get drunk, do not sell morphling. Honestly, I was surprised that the Peacekeepers actually had moral standards; I just assumed they were permitted to do those things to District people. However, I still have no way of knowing whether or not anyone actually follows these rules.

Other rules seem a bit less noble, or even outright arbitrary. For example, a Peacekeeper is not allowed to whistle loudly or sing while on patrol; I do not think this is a harsh rule but I also do not see the harm in it.

One rule that really stung was the rule forbidding Peacekeepers to get married or have children. While I am well aware of how undesirable I am, and how the girl I am in love with is permanent lay out of reach, I still could not stop thinking of Katniss for the rest of that month. On average, I still have a dream about her every fortnight. In any case, even if I was allowed to get married and by some miracle I got stationed in District 12, there is no way Katniss would ever want to be with a murderer like me.

While we did were so busy that we did not talk with each other for the first month, by the second month we began to talk a bit.

Right now I am sitting on my bed and taking off one of my boots. I have about an hour left and I am exhausted from a drill. When I pry my sock off my foot, I let out a sigh of relief.

"I take it you're tired by this too?"

I look up at the man who asked the question. His hair is dark brown, and he looks to be about a decade older than me. He is a big fellow, not just tall but also muscular. Still, his amber eyes have a friendly quality to them and his voice has no hint of malice.

"Yes. These drills have been the most tiresome thing I have had to do up to this point. Also, I seem to have forgot your name."

At this, the man chuckles. "I must be forgettin' my manners. Gregory Black is my name, and I be comin' from District 7. Now what will I be callen' you?"

"My name is Peeta Mellark. I come from District 12."

"You do indeed; you've got the build of a miner."

"Actually I was a baker."

"Either way, you're quite a big lad. And I don' mean big round' the stomach."

We laugh a bit before talking some more. I feel myself claiming down.


	7. Chapter 7:Drilling

Today's drill is exhausting. Marching and climbing through the surrounding mountainous area in the cold and drizzling rain, the whole thing is miserable. The only consolation is that Major Campbell is in the mud with us, and I am not really sure it can be called consolation as his commanding voice is not exactly making this a less unpleasant experience.

"Keep marching! Keep marching! Lift those legs up! Don't sown down!"

As we march, I can hear Gergory make a comment. He has to raise his voice so I can hear him over the rain. "At least won' be snowin'."

I reply in a raised voice. "Be careful, you might give the clouds ideas."

We can hear some more of Major Campbell's commanding. "Keep marching! Keep marching! No sloshing in the mud or you're boots will soak through."

It is too late for that.

As we reach one area, the mud is up to our knees. At this point, Nero collapsed and is down.

I kneel down to help Nero get back to his feet after he slipped and fell face first into deep mud. He is able to walk the rest of the way, but for a portion of it he has his arm over my shoulder for support. It might also be because there is so much mud on his visor that I have no idea how he can see anything at all.

"Keep marching! Keep marching! Almost there! Lift those legs up!"

When we finally reach the entrance to the Auxilia Training Facility, Major Campbell explains the purpose of the drill.

"The only way this is different from an actual battle is the absence of enemies firing at you. "

Once he opens the door, we go to the mess hall for dinner. The Avox's have already prepared fresh mush for us. After lining up, we go to our seat.

Major Campbell told us that Peacekeepers stationed in Career Districts and for producing Districts also get real food. I can understand why this is not extended to those in training, as it would be exceptionally cruel to feed someone real food for two years before making him eat flavorless mush for eighteen.

Still, I am so hungry from the long hike that I quickly shove the mush into my gullet. In between bites, I sometimes guzzle down water. I alternate until both my metal water cup and my food tray are empty.

Nero, who is sitting across from me, speaks. "Thanks for helping me out back there. 'Not drowning in mud' wasn't something I learned in District 4."

Though my belly hurts from eating too fast, I reply. "No problem, everybody needs a helping hand once in a while."

Nero Mariner is a Career from District 4. He got chosen for the program after a Tribute Riot; he was not able to volunteer first but he knocked out so many other careers during the fight that they offered him a job as a Peacekeeper.

I have been in training long enough to have met a few veteran peacekeepers, so I am well aware that being a Career does not mean that Nero is bad. In fact, this ruddy faced eighteen year old is actually a nice fellow; even if a little cocky.

"Did you hear, we're going to the main training facility in a week?"

I shake my head. "Where did you hear that?"

"I saw the Avox's packing things up."

I just grunt, as I knew we would be going there sooner or later. Quite frankly, I wish I was back home. I miss my father and brothers. I miss seeing Katniss.

Nero continues, "In less than two years, we'll be deployed to districts."

"I hope I get deployed in District 12."

Gregory, who just finished forcing down the gruel, was now able to reply morosely. "We all want to be goin' home."

We mumbled in agreement.

I see something at the food line, it looks like two of the other peacekeepers arguing. We turn around to watch what it is, as does most of the other peacekeepers sitting down.

Major Campbell approaches them.

"Break it up, Break it up. What's going on?"

One peacekeeper near the back of the line gives an answer, though not the one Major Campbell was looking for. "What's going on is that two assholes are holding up the line. I'm starving."

Major Campbell turns to him and answers him in a calm voice that suggests he should keep his hunger to himself. "This will be dealt with shortly. Now, what is going on?"

One of the peacekeepers in the fight explains. "Donner was groping the Avox."

The other peacekeeper, who was probably Donner, retorts. "That's a lie and you know it."

Major Campbell asks the Avox, "Was he touching you."

The Avox nodded, and Donner retorted again. "I may have been messing around with her, but it was all in good fun. Crassus is trying to make it sound like I'm a creep."

Major Campbell gave the verdict, "I'm going to look over the footage later. I want you to wait in here for the rest of the day. If you were touching the Avox in a lewd manner, than you will get fifty lashes as well as being made to run a drill during every rest hour and every lunch for up to a month, and you will have to apologize to the Avox. Whether or not you did, you are orderd to clean up any mud tracked into the hallway today."

Adressing the Avox, Major Campbell said only a few words. "Take the night off, send in one of the other Avox's to serve the other men."

I ask Gregory and Nero, "Who the guy that caused the trouble."

Nero answered. "Donner Loom. He and his twin brother got sent here after he was caught selling morphling. He's a real asshole."

"I figured."

We talk about other things and soon forget about the incident in the lunch room.


	8. Chapter 8:Main training facility

The Main Training Facility is much, _much_ bigger than the the Auxilia Training Facility. I suspected such, but only truly grasped it once we were moved there to carry out the main part of our training. Twenty times more people, ten times as much space, and over we are really beginning to learn things.

Major Campbell is still our drill instructor, as one of the other ones retired so he got to instruct the unit we were merged into.

He gave the whole unit a guided tour of the facility, and I was impressed by how much bigger everything is. Apart from enlarged versions of the rooms the Auxilia Facility had, this one also has a post office, a payment dispensary, a supplies depot, a general depot, an armory, a courtyard, and sub-facilities designed to train specialist Peacekeepers. We learned that when we would be stationed in a District, the barracks we will live in will be generally the same (albeit at a reduced size).

The post office is a place where people can purchase envelopes and cardboard boxes, and more importantly where people can send letters to loved ones back home or to comrades in other districts. Unfortunately, their postal service can only deliver mail to families in a District 2 or the Capitol; I will not be able to send money home to help my family. If only I knew one of the peacekeepers who goes to the Hob, then maybe I could send it to him with instructions to send it to my family. But even then, the packages could get confiscated or the peacekeeper on the ore line could just pocket it. It appears for now the post office exists only to taunt me.

The payment dispensary is where Peacekeepers line up to withdraw their payment for use at the supplies depot, the general depot, or in other places. If we do not withdraw our payments, it sits in the account that each Peacekeeper has unless we request that a percentage of it get sent directly to family back home. Once again, they either can not or simply will not allow me to send my money to my family back home.

The supply depot sells Peacekeeper related things. Spare uniforms, ceremonial swords, medical supplies, etc. Really, the stuff sold here is only useful if you need an extra pair of socks or if you are stationed in a District where weather-specific clothing is advised.

The general depot sells things to keep us occupied in our spare time. Books, playing cards, paper, pencils, pens, harmonicas, newspapers, whittling knives, and a few other things to keep us interested for two entire decades. It would be too impractical to paint with such close quarters that the barracks has, but at least they have colored pencils.

Each barracks has at least one Courtyard in the middle of it, although for the barracks in the Acropolis it is more of an indoor garden than an actual courtyard. The courtyard in this training facility has green grass separated by cobblestone pathways, with a few fir trees growing on the grassy patches to provide aesthetic appeal as well as shade. The pathways were sparsely lined with a few benches. In the center of the courtyard was a large iron statue depicting a Peacekeeper who appears to be from the Dark Days. This peacekeepers uniform had jagged tears, and he was holding a large National Flag in one hand and a Bayoneted Machine gun in the other. At his feet were a few bodies, belonging to both dead rebels and dead comrades. The plaque has an entire poem, it reads:

_**"Though outnumbered upon the field, **_

_**In my heart no cowardice lies,**_

_**To wicked aggressors I shall never yield, **_

_**A Peacekeeper fights til he dies, **_

_**Though my blood may well be spilt, **_

_**And on the ground I'll lie, **_

_**To traitors I shall never yield,**_

_**For I would rather die."**_

_**- found on the corpse of Peacekeeper Commander Rodney Grey (died on April 7th of the third year of the Dark Days). **_

To be quite frank, this poem gives me chills. I do not need to be a historian to guess that this man probably wrote this poem a few hours before a last stand. I can actually feel my heart pumping slightly faster as I put myself in his shoes. If I was a Peacekeeper in the Dark Days, I would not surrender after hearing about all the other shit the Dark Days rebels pulled. Especially not after the impaling incident in District 11. However, it does not slip my attention that Rodney's poem gives no mention whatsoever to the Capitol. Maybe that's because it wasn't what he saw himself as dying for.

In any case, I am to spend the rest of my training period here. This is where I am to learn how to fire a gun, how to use a bayonet and a knife, how to throw a grenade, and countless other ways to kill people.

After that, I will be deployed to another District to spend eighteen years.


	9. Chapter 9:Routine

I am learning how to use a gun.

They are teaching me how to fire a semiautomatic machine gun, how to stab someone with a bayonet, and how to fire my handgun with accuracy. I have no problem shooting, and am able to develop my marksmanship quickly.

However, there is another aspect. Whenever I have to shoot at lifelike dummies or at holographic images of humans, I struggle. I am not comfortable with the thought of ending another human's life. I am able to shoot at these, but the only way I can do this is by repeating to myself "They are not real, They are not real" over and over again. Even so, sweat runs from my forehead and my hands get clammy whenever I need to shoot at something that resembles a human too closely.

Needless to say, I am failing miserably at the hand to hand combat part of training. While I knew how to wrestle back in District 12, whenever I try to use this knowledge my mind fills with images of Jack lying limp and dead on the ground. I am just hoping that I can do well enough in the other areas of my training that I can compensate for my mental block. I have so far not been able to win a hand-to-hand fight once.

We have history lessons and legal classes detailing the laws of Panem and how we are to I force them.

The history lessons are a more in depth version of the one we got in the Auxiliary Training Facility. We had to learn the names of specific Commanders and Headpeacekeepers who fought in the Dark Days. We had to memorize several important dates and events; Peacekeeper last stands, counter offensives, martyrdom dates of specific loyalists, and many other things. We also learned about important events before the dark days, such as a colossal navel battle in which most of the peacekeeper fleet was wiped out repelling a barbarian assault. While I am aware that most of the information was twisted from propaganda purposes, I also know that there is truth to it underneath the propaganda.

Many of the laws in Panem work in theory but in practice their corresponding punishments have a tendency to go overboard. For example, anyone who commits a serious crime against a child (rape, murder, attempted rape/murder, etc.) gets "death by fire". When I asked for a clarification of that vague description, the teacher said it varied by District; some districts burn the offenders at the stake, some execute them with flamethrowers, some douse them in oil electrocute them. I learned that in District 12, they chain the offenders hands and legs behind his back and lay his on his stomach _on a bed of burning coals__._ When someone asked why a firing squad would not be sufficient, the teacher said that the severe punishment worked as a deterrent. Or in the teachers own words, "Sometimes a crime is so insidious, we have to not just kill the offender but also make the punishment so severe that nobody will ever repeat the crime ever again". I realized that this draconian policy was part of the Capitol's rationale behind the Hunger Games.

Despite all the hard work, I was able to fall into step with day to day life in the Training Facility.

There are several ways the other Peacekeepers-in-training work to keep themselves from going insane with border in their downtime. Most write to their loved ones back home, but there are other things to do for those who's loved ones are not in District 2 or who simply do not have loved ones. Some keep journals, some play the harmonica or some other small instrument, most peacekeepers read books, the more erudite peacekeepers keep organized collections of specimens collected from the courtyard and from hikes, some play high-low jack or other card games, and there is one Peacekeeper in a different Unit who practices his skill with a cavalry sword and can be found every day in the courtyard (this same person also mentioned once that his cousin was a career, so I guess it runs in the family).

While I do have a small collection of specimens, and Gregory taught me how to play card games, the chief way I keep myself occupied is by drawing. From the general depot I am able to get paper as well as both lead and colored pencils, though I will have to make due with these as they do not sell paints. I often draw pictures of either something I see, an expereances I had, or of people. On the back of each picture I write a brief explanation of what it is.

The first picture I drew was of Katniss; I drew it from memory, which is still crystal clear. I wanted to draw a picture of her so I do not forget her, since I know I will never see her again. The picture is not dirty or otherwise profane; it is a perfectly innocent picture.

I do not let anyone see my drawings because I know I am not good at anything and I do not want to be scorned. The pictures are for my sake; I keep them in my personal belongings chest so that I can remember my time here.

I still have a year left of training, but after that I get assigned to a district. Then I have eighteen years to wait, after which I can retire in District 2 and die alone and unloved.


	10. Chapter 10:Fist fight

It is nighttime, but like most nights there are still those who can not sleep. Some are crying from homesickness, some are laying silently and starring at the ceiling. Being in the latter group, I can hear those in the former.

One of them, a person who is just three bunks down from mine, is a person I recognize as Leo Saltz. He is a seventeen year old from district from District 3, and he is not very bright. He rarely speaks, and when he does his words are slow and ungainly; he probably avoids speaking out of embarrassment. Still, he is a nice person and it is clear that he is innocent of the crime he was charged with; he does not even understand what he was accused of.

Every other night so far he has cried out of homesickness; he shows no sign of it during the day so I do not think it is too serious. In fact, he is just admitting what many others try to hide.

"Shut up!" A harsh voice, one belonging to a District 2 peacekeeper, can be heard.

Leo, still crying, replies. "I ... I don't belong here."

Donner Loon responds. "Damn right you don't, now shut up or we'll shut you up."

Leo did not quiet, he just kept crying.

"That's it. You should have just shut up."

I can hear footsteps as three people get out of bed and walk to where Leo is. Then I hear the sound of someone being pushed onto the floor and squealing in pain as others kick him.

This is not right.

Slipping out of bed, I walk to Leo's bunk. I see him curled on the ground as Donner Loom and two other peacekeepers are kicking and punching him.

"Stop it!"

They turn around and see me, and the ringleader answers before turning back to assault Leo. "No."

I waste no time in developing a strategy, I just sort of wing it. I grab him by the shoulders and forcefully rip him away. I am able to punch him in the face a few times before the other two restrain my arms.

The ringleader walks in front of me, but before he can say anything I make my move. The two restraining my arms made the mistake of leaving my legs free, and they realize this when I swing my heel into the weak area of the one on my left. This gives me the distraction I need to elbow the other one. Using the time I have, I tackle the ringleader and punch him three times before I am restrained by someone different.

Major Campbell's voice calmly but firmly tells me, "That's enough."

He lets go, and we all line up.

"What's going on here?"

Before the assailants can lie, I speak.

"They were attacking Leo, so I tried to stop them."

Major Campbell turns to the three assailants. "Is this true?"

The ringleader, surprisingly, does not lie. "I was trying to shut him up."

Major Campbell gives an order to the peacekeepers who accompanied him here. "You, tame those three to the brig. They'll be staying there for three months, after which they will get forty public lashings and will be made to apologize to Peacekeeper Saltz."

The three assailants were grumbling as they were escorted away.

Major Campbell turned to me and Leo. "You two, I'm personally going to escort you to the medic to get you patched up."

As we walk to the medic's office, Major Campbell first calms Leo down. After he does this, he talks to me.

"If this happens again, be sure to get backup or to call for help."

I nod.

We reach the office, and the medic begins to treat our bruises. Lying in one of the sick beds is Conner Loom. He looks exactly like his twin brother; coca eyes, light brown hair, and he shows his teeth when he smiles. He is in here because of stomach pains.

"You look terrible."

"You can thank your brother for that."

Conner grimaces, "That asshole? He's the whole reason I'm in this craphole. No offense." He said the last part to the medic, who does not say anything but does seem to take offense.

I reply. "I don't think you can blame your flu on him."

Conner does not seem to take this well, "You know what I mean. We had to sell morphling back in District 8 to survive, but he had the brilliant idea of shooting a competing dealer and stealing his product. We couldn't hide that much, so of course we both got pinched."

"You don't look like a morphling."

"I'm not one. Just because I used to sell it doesn't mean I use it. If there was any food in District 8 than I wouldn't even sell it, but I'm pretty sure Donner still would."

I guess these twins are not close. In any case, Conner might be the more trustworthy of the two.


	11. Chapter 11:Night

As we get further through training, it gets increasingly intensive. The training becomes harder, the drills become longer, and by the time we reach the resting part of the day we are all exhausted.

We get a treat today; a movie is shown on a projector in the resting area. They show us a movie at least once a month on average. Usually they pertain either to an act of bravery by Peacekeepers, Career Victors, or similar groups. Last month, we watched an adventure movie about the epic voyage Captain Blight made back to his home country after he and a few loyal followers were set adrift on a rowboat by mutinous crewmen.

The reason they are enjoyable is that, despite the propaganda overtones (the characters we are supposed to root for have. District 2 accents, the ones we are supposed to root against have accents of people from District 8, District 10, District 11, District 12, and District 13), they still feel like stories and can be enjoyed.

We sit in chairs around the projection, watching the film unfold.

The film is called Northern Front, and from what I can gather it is about the ancient Romans.

Before being drafted into the Peacekeepers, I had no idea whatsoever that a civilization called of people similar to the Career Districts who called themselves Romans existed in the past before the North Americans. I must not have been the only one to lack this area of knowledge, because Nero had to assure not only myself but also Conner, Leo, and Gregory that the Roman Empire is not a fantastical setting. We believed him after several District 2 Peacekeepers verify his historical claim.

The film is specifically about a rebellion in the northern region of the Roman Empire, led by a woman named Boudicca. We can tell right away that the movie wants us to root against her, as the first scene is the smoldering ruins of what the narrator assures us used to be not only a prosperous community but also a place where retired veterans were settled. This already has us rooting against Boudicca, and quite frankly for good reason; I have been here long enough to understand that a veteran is not only someone to be respected and admired, but also often is too old or weakened to continue fighting. I do not know how historically accurate this movie is, but even if Boudicca had just cause to rebel she went too far to ever be considered a force of good.

The next scene goes to Roman General Gaius Suetonius Paulinus being called back to the provence to crush the uprising, and the rest of the movie focuses on his attempt to evacuate the civilians of the provence's Central City (the narrator, who sounds like an older version of Paulinus, assures us that many did not heed his warning and were also massacred by Boudicca), and his gathering up of what soldiers were available for battle. The movie ends with an epic battle on Watling Road, during which General Paulinus defeats Boudicca in battle despite being his forces being outnumbered thirty to one. The last scene shows the bodies of the dead rebels being dumped into a pit for mass burial, with the narrator telling us that General Paulinus lived happily ever after to the rest of his days.

Again, I do not know the historical accuracy of is film, but just because it is propaganda does not automatically mean it was pulled entirely out of the Capitol's asshole; it is possible that they just took a real historical event and painted it in a way that supported what they wanted it to.

Apart from that, the reason these movies are easier to swallow is that they talk about virtue found in individuals rather than in The State.

After the movies, I am tired so I go to bed for some sleep. When I go to sleep, one of three things happens. The majority of the time I have no dreams whatsoever and my mind is calm for hours before I wake up. Sometimes, if I am lucky, my psychosis rewards me with a dream about Katniss. This is not what happens tonight.

* * *

I am six years old again, standing in the kitchen. In front of me is someone who has since my birth been a source of pain and fear.

"YOU MISERABLE LITTLE BRAT! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!"

Seeimg my mother looming over me is always a terrifying sight. I try to appoligize for whatever I did wrong this time, but my mouth will not even open. Why can I not speak?!

My panic worsens as the rolling pin in my mothers hand is swung down by her arm, sending pain shooting into my head and knocking me to my feet.

"You really are a rotten little disappointment! I shouldn't have even let you be born!"

She kicks me in the stomach, and the pain is so intense that I can do nothing more than curl up into a ball for protection. The tears are streaming down my face, and I can not stop them.

"You pathetic piece of shit! I hate you, Peeta. We all hate you and nobody will care if you die."

She continues to kick me, and yet I still can not open my mouth. She raises her foot over my head ...

* * *

I awaken gasping, my eyes wide as saucers. For the first few seconds, the only thing I notice is how loudly and greedily I am sucking air back into my lungs. Once I regain myself, I become aware of my surroundings. I am in a Barracks, and Gregory is standing next to my bed.

"Everything is alright lad, just keep breathing."

"I'm sorry if I woke you."

"Don't be worryin' Peeta Mellark, I wasn' sleepin' anyhow. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

At this, I have a horrible thought and become afraid.

"Was ... was I talking in my sleep."

"You was a mumblin', but nothing I can hear."

Breathing a sigh of relief, I thank him. "Thank you. It means a lot."

"Don' be worryin' over it. I'll always be here if you're needn' a friend to talk to."

He returns to his bed, and I go back to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12:Almost there

We are now in the part of the training where the skills we learned are being honed and developed. Now we are learning how to utilize our skills in a realistic setting.

We have to shoot at holographic targets which not only resemble real people but also fight back (with holographic weapons). In fact, our whole unit fought in a simulated battle which was complete with District 13 soldiers to kill and surroundings that suggest we are in a heavily urbanized District like District 8 or District 5. After an intense hour, we are able to kill most of the rebels.

At one point, we even have to make a simulated arrest. We go into a simulation of a District 11 home and our goal is to look for evidence of contraband and arrest the person if we find it to be there. After we find the contraband morphling, we need to arrest the person who sells it; sometimes he begs us to spare him for his family's sake, sometimes he breaks a glass bottle and tries to fight us. In any case, he either leaves the shack in handcuffs or is shot dead.

We also have to manage a mock hostage situation, using our negotiation skills to either prevent a gunman from killing his hostages or to distract him while a sniper takes aim. Very rarely is someone actually able to talk him into turning himself in. Sometimes the peacekeeper doing the negotiating botches it and the gunman murders his hostages in cold blood. Thankfully, they are all only simulated.

It is all very intensive, and it is clear that we will graduate very soon.

This is not to say it is not taking it's toll. Gregory, who I thought was always cheery, has been occasionally slipping into morose moods during which he refuses to talk. It is clear he is troubled by something; perhaps he always is and simply lacks the capacity to hide it at this time.

Leo takes it the worst, crying loudly at night. I try to cheer him up, but he still is sad. He often cries about how he misses his mother; it is nice that at least someone's mother loved them. Nobody tells him to shut up, not after all of the other Peacekeepers saw the black eye Donner had.

Conner and his twin brother are becoming increasingly more and more antagonistic; bickering and fist-fighting and threatening to murder each other. Conner made it clear that he and his twin were never close (when he said Donner never loved him, I believe pit), I hope they can avoid killing each other until graduation. Then they can hopefully avoid each other.

Even Nero has lost a bit of his swagger, spending all his spare time training. When I suggested to him that he relax, he told me that this is the last chance he has to restore his family's honor. Nero would occasionally talk about how great being a Career was (mostly he would bring it up when he was talking with Peacekeepers who were previously Careers), but I always chalked it up to ego (he's a great guy, but he can be a bit cocky at times). But I have been here long enough to understand that Career Tributes devote their entire lives to winning the Hunger games, so when they can not even compete they need to find a way to earn wealth and honor or else they will feel like their life's work was for nothing.

Major Campbell and the other Peacekeeper Drill Instructors give only encouraging words. Undoubtably some just want to maximize their commission payment by having as many as us pass as possible, but I ink most sincerely care about the Peacekeepers-In-Training under their charge.

As for me, I was not worried. At least, not about the final tests. I have worse things to worry about.

One day, during the resting hour, a Peacekeeper whom I think was named Lysander broke out in cheering. His cousin won the Hunger Games. I did not pay attention to them, so now I have no way of knowing if anyone I care about died.

If it turns out that Katniss died in the Hunger Games, than I am going to put a loaded handgun to my one of my temples and I will kill myself. That is just a fact.

In any case, I need to know how it happened.


	13. Chapter 13:Final Examination

Today is the big test. The culmination of everything we learned in the last two years. The last obstacle we need to overcome if we want to graduate.

Each unit is taking the test as a unit, and so will have to re take our entire two years of training if a single person in our unit fails. Fortunately, we are allowed to help each other through this. We will have to overcome each and every obstacle, all while dealing with food and sleep deprivation.

It is the hardest part of the training. It is going to be the hardest thing we have had to do up to this point.

Major Campbell will be leading us, as each Drill Instructor is to lead his unit through the difficulty as though he were a Commander. This means that, while he will technically be leading us, he will not give us the answers or do it for us.

He gives a speech.

"Men, when I first met you I made a promise. I promised that I would either drive you out or turn you into the toughest sons of bitches to wear White. You have not been driven out, that is for sure. I intend to keep my promise, and when I look before you I get the feeling that I am not a lier. Remember; Peacekeeper sever yield."

It was a simple speech, but it really pumped us up. I can feel my anxiety drain away as I smile a small yet determined grin. I can do this; I have the ability within me.

First, we ride one of the minor trains to a wilderness part of the mountains. Then we get off, and the train returns without us. I learned earlier that cameras will be watching us Hunger Games style and that our progress will be examined from the observation room.

"Get down and crawl to the first obstacle on prone position. There are snipers in the trees."

We do as he orders, crawling on our stomach through mud and foliage. I ignore the twigs and branches and leaves which buffet and snap against my visor. Eventually, we reach the first obstacle.

Throughout the examination, we have to keep going day and night. Simulated assault courses, land navigation, and other things are what make up the obstacles. The fact that we have to march to and from each one, and that each obstacle can be anywhere between one and twenty seven miles apart, is a challenge in and of itself. Same goes for the fact that we have to do the whole thing in full armor and uniform, and that sometimes have handicaps added to our transition marches.

The handicaps, like the distances between obstacles, vary dramatically. Sometimes it involves carrying loads of ammunition to the next course, sometimes it means running the whole way there, sometimes we have to crawl in prone position the whole way between an obstacle, or we had to take a complex way between to avoid walking in an area which was restricted to simulate ambushes.

In one terrifying march between obstacles, I saw a mutt in person for the first time. I remember that in one book I purchased at the general depot there were pictures of different animals; the mutt that was asleep next to the pathway looked like someone had combined a Bengal Tiger and a Short-faced bear. The thing was huge, and the fact that it was chained in place did not change the fact that I was afraid it would rip me in half. Naturally, our challenge was to sneak to the next obstacle without waking the thing.

We were able to make it, and once we were far enough away we talked loudly about how big that thing was. Nero summed up our collective thoughts rather elegantly, saying "That was one big motherfucker."

To make matters worse, it was pouring throughout the entire thing. There was not a dry inch anywhere to be found, and our uniforms practically became aquariums.

This is not to say it was 100% miserable. Whenever someone taking his turn in an individual obstacle pulled through, we would all cheer with excitement and congratulations. Likewise, I felt my heart race with excitement and well with pride whenever I completed an individual obstacle and was met with applause by the others.

Even the rain was not all bad; the lightning stopped terrifying me after awhile and I began to appreciate the beauty of the natural setting I was in. Each bust of thunder or lightning was like another note on a grand orchestra. I felt humbled by the surroundings.

The sloshing and the mud was not broken up by the few moments we had to sleep, which was only an hour at a time. My eyes hurt as I worked to keep them open.

Eventually, after the last obstacle, we had to climb up a steep hill as mud and water was flowing down it. This was miserable, and difficult. We had to crawl on our hands and knees to prevent from getting knocked off our footing.

My entire body feels numb, all the way to the bone. Each step, I have to physically force my leg to move to the desired place. The numbness is probably for the best, as I can not feel how cold and soggy my world is. I can not see a single thing as my helmet is covered with so much mud.

When we reached the top, we found a wooden overhang. Under it was a fire pit. As we sat down, other peacekeepers approached us. These ones appeared fresh, dressed in clean clothes. They handed us blankets and offered congratulatory words. They told us we made it.

"What? We made it?"

One of them, a grey haired man introducing himself as a Headpeacekeeper, told us we not only made it but in fact beat a few of the other units.

"How long did it take us to get here?"

"About seventy two hours."

I was marching for three days. I sat down in front of the fire, and passed out.

* * *

**Authors Note: The mutt mentioned in this chapter is the Beast of the 75 the Hunger Games. Or at least of the same Mutt breed. **


	14. Chapter 14:Graduation Ceremony

We prepare ourselves, putting on fine Dress Uniforms. The dress uniform of a Peacekeeper truly looks grand and magnificent. The clean white is complimented well by the gold buttons.

Since we passed, today is the day we graduate from training. Major Campbell, who is also clad in a fine Dress Uniform, gives the unit a speech before the actual ceremony starts. He starts it with a question.

"You, Peacekeeper Peeta Mellark. From where do you hail?"

I am caught off guard, but I do not dare show it in my voice. I answer with a firm and steady voice, they way I was taught Peacekeepers are supposed to talk.

"District 12."

"And your comrade?"

"From District 2."

"And his comrade?"

"From District 7."

"And his Comrade?"

I understand what Major Campbell is getting at and I give a full answer. He smiles proudly when he sees that I understand.

"From District 11, and District 4, and District 8."

"What unites you?"

I think about how Gregory got me to open up to other people, I think about how I defended Leo against three assailants, I think about how I pulled Nero out of the mud, and about how Conner bought me a cooking book on my birthday, and about how we cheered each other on and supported each other through the obstacles.

"The bond of Comrades."

"That is right. We are Peacekeepers; our unity is what holds us together. It is what connects us with the long dead Peacekeepers of the past, and with the no yet born Peacekeepers who will wear the White long after we are gone. That is why we are strong, and that is why we wear the White."

His voice changes, indicating that he is switching gears. Now he reviews with us how we are going to preform the ceremony. We were already taught how we are going to proceed, so we are prepared.

We are to march through the Central City, from the train station that leads out from the Acropolis to the Heroes Cemetery.

The Heroes Cemetery is the place where those who died valiantly are buried; the grave detailing their names, dates of birth and death, the battle they died in, and sometimes how they died. This includes District 2 Victors who die after winning the Hunger Games, District 2 Careers who die in the Hunger Games, as well as Peacekeepers or loyalists who die in combat. While most of the graves there are either from or predating the Dark Days, there are still a few graves of Peacekeepers who were killed in District Riots.

Once we are at the Heroes Cemetery, we all are to turn to face it. Then, we will be greeted by the Headpeacekeeper of District 2 and he will give a speech. Finally, we are to take our Oath of Loyalty.

In anticipation, we ride the train down out of the mountain and into the train station. We exit the trains, and in the square we organize ourselves into a single, massive column of soldiers. The column is fifteen men wide and thousands of men long. Every tenth person down from the front holds a large flag bearing the symbol of the Peacekeepers and the symbol of District 2 in alternating intervals.

Once all the Graduated Peacekeepers are out of the train, we march through the District Square, through the Central City and all the way to the Heroes Cemetery. The road is blocked off so that nobody will interfere with out march.

The first thing I notice as we march is the cheering. All around us are thousands of District 2 people cheering us on. Men and teenagers wave banners and flags eagerly, children sitting on their shoulders throw flowers in front of our path, elderly men and woman (some of whom are clearly Peacekeeper veterans) either sit on their porch and remember their past fondly or stand on their porch and salute us. Homes and shops along the route are adorned with flags and loyalist symbols. These buildings are also adorned with banners which display loyalist slogans such as "To Traitors Never Yield!" and "Long Live The Boys In White!". The whole parade is to the tune of the military music the bands are playing.

It would be impossible for my heart not to swell with pride.

When we reach the Heroes Cemetery, the column changes shape to be more square like and less elongated. We are standing in front of the polished marble gravestones and the large marble triumphal column which stands in the center of the cemetery. Around the column the are the names of every fallen loyalist, peacekeeper, career tribute; the names of every person who died in the Capitol's Defense. There is no need to guess as to why it is called the Martyr Column.

In the background, overlooking the whole ceremony, stands the Acropolis. The blue sky is covered with only a few puffs of clouds.

Standing in front of the Martyr Column is Varus Conolly, Headpeacekeeper of District 2 and from what I learned a decorated hero of the Dark Days.

Even I have to be impressed by what he did; Joining the loyalist army at the age of twelve (he supposedly lied about his age when he enlisted), he made most Victors look weak in comparison. During the battle of Cottage Bridge, he single handedly turned the tide of the battle from a sure defeat to a Pyrrhic victory. After which, he continued to fight in battle, getting wounded in half his body-parts and at one point destroying a rebel tank by climbing on top of it and throwing a Molotov Cocktail inside. He managed to lead a night raid on a rebel army of a thousand and route them despite only having two hundred men (he surprised the camping rebels and made them think there was more men attacking than there were). At the Battle of the Mountain Pass, he lead a nearly suicidal Cavalry Charge from the rebel army's rear. At first I thought it was all made up, but the evidence of his achievements (video footage, first hand accounts, witnesses, etc.) is more than enough to convince me he did not just give himself his medals like Cray did.

In his late nineties, he still gives speeches to each new generation of Peacekeeper graduates.

"Men, woman, comrades, When I look upon your ranks today I am proud. Standing before me is a generation that is ready to carry on the legacy of honor and unity that has defined the Peacekeepers since their beginnings.

Before you is our past. In this graveyard lie the blood and bones of those who made the final sacrifice for the land of their fathers, to protect their home. Those men and women were someone's children, someone's parents, someone's grandchildren. Some having died even before the Dark Days to protect the innocent, achieving the highest honor and dying so that everything they hold dear may survive. These martyrs lie before you. However, something else lies before you; our future and the future of The Peacekeepers. Remember when you are in the field, that you're actions will be a part of the peacekeepers and long after you are gone the peacekeepers of tomorrow will look to you're conduct as an example in e same way that we draw inspiration from our proud heritage. It is a heritage that was forged in the glorious flames of battle by our ancestors and our predecessors, so when you recite the vows of the Peacekeepers look upon the martyrs of our past and remember what you are inheriting. Now before our ancestors and our Acropolis, let us take the Oath of the Peacekeepers."

We all turn to look at the Martyr Column and its multitude of names, and we salute the flag draped down the front of the Column as we recite our Oath. The voices of all the peacekeepers present, both old and new, active and retired, echo in the streets. When I speak the words, I feel as though I am part of something more powerful than the sum of its parts. I feel invigorated.

"I swear upon my honor and my blood, I shall defend the Capitol, the Snow Family, and the Nation of Panem against all enemies both external and internal, and to do so with honor, obedience, fidelity, and camaraderie. I swear to also defend our fatherland, our homeland, our heritage, and our people. I swear that in the defense of all of this I shall be willing at all times to lay down my life on the field of battle wherever it may be, and that I shall do so with undaunted readiness. I swear at all times to fulfill my duty as a Peacekeeper."

I did not notice until afterwords, but the only part of that I did not vocalize was the part that mentioned the Capitol and the Snow Family. I just lipped over that part of the first sentence.

In any case, it is now official.

* * *

**Authors Note: A Peacekeeper's Dress Uniform has similarities to a White Dress Uniform worn by a U.S Navy Officer.**


	15. Chapter 15:Barbecue

After the ceremony, we got the rest of the day off. Most of the other new peacekeepers went home to spend a night with their families or their lovers before we get shipped off tomorrow.

Major Campbell invited "anyone in the unit without prior plans" to come to his home for a barbecue. At first, I thought he was just inviting us because our families were in our birth Districts and we are unable to visit him. In any case, I had nothing better to do.

Major Campbell's house is barely within the city limits of the Central City, and of course you can see the Acropolis from it. His house is a cozy structure, built of logs.

When I knocked at the door, he opened it and smiled. It is a bit strange to see him actually relaxed, but that might not be a bad thing that he is.

"Please, come in. There are seats outside for you and the others; you can warm yourselves around the fire until dinner's ready."

I enter his home, and walk through his house towards the door leading to the back yard. As I do, I stop when something catches my eye. One of the pictures on the wall shows is of a unit of Peacekeepers standing in position, wearing their full uniforms with the exception of their helmets. One of these Peacekeepers, the one standing in the frknt row and second from the left end, is clearly identifiable as a younger version of Major Campbell; I got to say he did a good job of keeping himself physically fit throughout the years.

But that's not what caught my attention.

Standing one row behind him and forth from the right end is someone who earned a reputation for perversion back in District 12.

"I see you noticed the picture? Back then I was stronger than a bull."

I am not shocked by Major Campbell's voice.

"Sir, who is that person there?"

"Hmm ... I don't remember. Cameron? Carl? Its on the tip of my tongue."

"Cray?"

"That could be it. In any case, he was a bit of an asshole. Still, I have to admit he was clever. Say, do you know him?"

"Not personally, but if the man in the picture is who I think he is that he's the Headpeacekeeper of District 12."

"What's he like?"

"He's an asshole too."

"Well, not everybody can get along. Sit outside, I'll start the food."

I go outside to the backyard. It has a wooden picnic table, a campfire in a stone fire pit, and benches surrounding said fire pit. A dog with a wide head and thick skin folds around the eyes, neck, and nose, is sleeping in the corner and wearing a collar around his neck. There is a wooden fence separating it from the nearby wilderness, but I can see fir trees beyond the fence.

Sitting in front of the campfire is Conner Loom, and I am thankful his twin brother is not here. I sit next to my friend, and unwittingly awaken him from a slumber I did not know he was in.

"Huh ... huh? Oh, its just you. Good to see you came to the cookout."

"Good to see you here too. I take it your brother is busy?"

"He'd like to be, but that depends on how desperate the women of District 2 are. He's currently touring the various bars, taverns, and watering holes of the Central City with the duel goals of replacing his body's water with beer and finding someone to stick his privates in."

I chuckle at the thought of Donner having to ride a hovercraft while hungover. Then I reply with sarcasm. "He sounds classy."

After we have a good laugh over this, we talk until Leo and Nero come here. Nero sits down at the fire pit, while Leo goes to sit down on the ground next to the dog; Leo looks like he wants to pet the dog but is afraid to.

I ask Nero a question. "Where's Gregory?"

"He won't move; something's got him down in the dumps."

"Should we check on him?"

"I don't think we need to; he's not that sad. I'm sure it's just something in his stomach."

"He does seem upset about something."

"If he is, he'll tell us when he's ready."

I don't know if this is true or not, but I trust Nero enough to know that he wouldn't leave Gregory alone if he was suicidal. I can not ponder this long, as Conner asks a question that changes the subject.

"Nero, where do you think they'll send us?"

"I don't know, but hopefully its one of the Career Districts. Good food, good whether, and really good women. But wherever we're sent the whole unit is being sent there. Few places are as good for service."

I learned prior to this that our entire unit will be stationed in the same place, and therefore if one of us returns home than many others will not be able to. Still, I can not help but cling to the one out of twelve chance I am stationed in the District of my birth.

The dinner Major Campbell served us was something called 'pulled pork'; it was stringy but it tasted good and was filling. The few times I was able to eat meat there was only a little and I had no way of really tasting it; most of my meals growing up consisted of stale bread.

Major Campbell gives a bowl of the stuff to Leo, who seems not to have noticed that he was handing dinner out.

"Here you go. You can pet him if you like, Bull doesn't bite." Leo smiles and pets the dog, but he does so cautiously and with carefulness.

Soon other members of our unit come. When I see them take him up on his offer, I was surprised to learn that some of the District 2 Peacekeepers did so as well. I guess some come from bad families, or simply do not have families.

We ate food, talked, and thought about where we would be going. When we left, I took the time to thank Major Campbell for taking care of us. He responded that it was just his job, but anyone could see he was touched my my gesture. In any case, he told me I could write him if I ever needed advice or just someone to talk to.

I hope my commander is as caring as Major Campbell is.


	16. Chapter 16:flight

Sit in the hovercraft, waiting for it to land and take us to our destination where we will be spending the next eighteen years. I do not know where we are being sent, but I am sure they will tell us soon. I have given up on the possibility of landing in District 12, and I just wish Katniss the best of happiness; someone as beautiful and virtuous as her should have no trouble finding a husband. I should not dwell on it; even if she would give me a chance when I was a pathetic baker's son, she would never give her hand in marriage to a peacekeeper.

If I can not have Katniss, and she is happy with someone else, than I can be content with a life of celibacy.

My thoughts are interrupted when I Conner leans next to me and points at his hung over twin brother. Conner says with a giggle, "I think he didn't have a good night."

Donner must have heard, because he retorted. "I'll have you know I did too get laid."

Conner cracks a joke. "I'll be the took Ms. Palmers behind an alleyway."

This causes Gregory and I to laugh at Donner's expense. Nero makes another joke which causes us to laugh again; "How much do you think he had to pay her?"

The hung over ex-morphling dealer just growled and plugged his ears.

It is good to see Gregory feeling better enough to make jokes; but it is too soon to judge if he is actually better or if he simply hiding his problem. In any case, I hope the problem he has does not get out of control. Whenever I ask about it, he simply says he does not want to talk about it.

In any case, I hope we can settle comfortably in whichever District we are stationed in. I also hope our Headpeacekeeper is a good person; I could not stand being under Cray's command. He is everything that a Peacekeeper should Never be.

In any case, I know that being a peacekeeper does not mean I am a bad person. It does not mean I will have to become an abusive monster. I learned it is possible for a peacekeeper to be a force of good, someone who helps people instead of hurting them.

I try to distract myself for the rest of the flight, attempting to avoid falling asleep. I watch as Nero calms Leo down, assuring him that a hovercraft was perfectly safe and in fact safer than a train.

I do not know how, but I slip into sleep when caught off guard by it.

* * *

I am standing in the ground, wearing my old clothes. Jack is lying dead on the ground with a broken neck and pallor skin, his face twisted as red fluid gushes from his broken neck.

"No. No!"

Jack somehow stands up, his twisted and mangled neck still bleeding and his head hanging at a demented and unnatural angle. His hollow voice sends chills down my spine.

"Murderer! Murderer!"

I want to scream, scream that I did not mean to. That it was not my intention. But I can not, for I am paralyzed in place.

"You murdered me. Because of you my neck was broken and I died. I am dead and it is your fault."

I try to speak, but my mouth is still firmly closed. Then, to make matters worse, I notice that there is a noose behind me and that I am standing in the District Square.

A Peacekeeper reads my sentence. "Peeta Mellark, you are found guilty of murder in the first degree of Jack Green. You are hereby dishonorably discharged, and your sentence is death by hanging."

He places a black bag over my head, so I can not see anything. Ht then talks to the someone.

"Would you like to do the honors?"

The person, who's voice is that of my mothers, responds. "It would be my pleasure."

I can here her walking to the switch which will end me.

* * *

Eventually, the hovercraft lands. I snap awake, surprised and thankful to not be covered in sweat. The intercom answers the long asked question. "We have just landed, welcome to District 11."


	17. Chapter 17: District 11

"Avoid giving money to beggars."

This is how Headpeacekeeper Olympia Clark greets the new arrivals. Her greeting us imply she is either a micromanager or a hands-on leader. Maybe both. In any case, it becomes clear that District 11 is not a good place to live if you are a civilian.

"Under the guidance of myself as well as this District's previous Headpeacekeepers, District 11 is at near maximum efficiency. It is a well-oiled machine, if you will. But even it has its problems, and amongst them is a large population of beggars and destitute. While the more soft hearted Peacekeeper would be tempted to give money to these poor wretches, there are so many that no matter what amount you give to them it will still make no difference other than to drain your wallets and coffers. Worse still, it will cause the beggars and more ambitious pickpockets to target Peacekeepers and thus lower the performance ability of you and your comrades."

This is nothing new: I already remember how in District 12 peacekeepers would callously walk past and around the starving and the freezing.

Headpeacekeeper Clark continues to speak. "I am not commanding you how to spend your money, you are still allowed to give money to people and to purchase items from local shopkeepers and from the depots, so long as those items are legal and within the protocol of a Peacekeeper. Just remember that giving money to beggars is highly discouraged and that if it becomes a problem you will be compelled to attend a seminar on responsible use of payments."

They actively discourage charity; just great.

"It goes without saying that abuse of your position will not be tolerated. Harassing and terrorizing civilians, giving firearms to people, and forming sexual relations with the locals are all things which are strictly prohibited. Breaking any rules will result in punishment proportional to the transgression."

One of the Peacekeepers in the audience raises his hand.

"Yes?"

"Ma'am, permission to inquire on one of the rules?"

"Permission granted."

"Why aren't we allowed to sleep with local women? I thought the only restrictions be that they consent and be of age?"

"Normally that would be the case. However, it is important to remember that you are peacekeepers and therefore you have an obligation to behave responsibly. Sexual encounters with locals often carries the risk spreading Sexually Transmitted Diseases which can be brought back to District 2 with disastrous results, or of conceiving an illegitimate child which will only have one source of resources. This is not to say that all intercourse is prohibited; peacekeepers are allowed to have relations with other peacekeepers, and are also allowed to have relations with people back in District 2. Did that answer your question?"

"Yes Ma'am."

I suppose this arbitrary restriction does not matter anyway; I am in District 11 and not District 12. Also, there is no way Katniss would even consider marrying a peacekeeper like me.

Headpeacekeeper Clark continues, describing the various rules of District 11. Not only is it illegal to leave the borders of the Central City (where everyone lives), but it is also illegal for civilians to be outside their homes after curfew. Even bringing home a single grain of wheat is punishable by flogging.

However, in contrast to the curfew of the Central City, civilians in the fields had to work during both daytime and nighttime to harvest the crop. Of course, it is highly illegal to bring the night vision glasses home and anyone caught doing so must be shot on sight. Now it is my turn to ask a question.

"Permission to inquire as to one of the rules?"

"Permission granted."

"Why do we have to shoot them on sight? Isn't it kind of extreme?"

"It is completely proportional to the crime. The only reason a civilian would steal night vision goggles is if he were planning an escape or were planning an assassination. Around the time of the twenty eighth Hunger Games, a notorious serial killer was finally caught. He had spent the previous decade raping and murdering young woman as well as mutilating their bodies; he admitted to a total of forty two murders, though estimates range well into the triple digits. When he was being interrogated, he said he struck at night and used stolen night vision glasses."

While I seriously doubt every civilian with night vision glasses is a serial killer, I can at least understand why peacekeepers would be overly cautious. Of course, if I see someone with night vision goggles than I will probably give him a warning first or at least just bring him in alive.

Headpeacekeeper Clark described some more rules before finally wrapping up the overview, "And one more thing; welcome to District 11."

Yep, I guess this is my new home.


	18. Chapter 18:Execution

To say that District 11 is a bad place to live would be a huge understatement.

Every single step outside of the Peacekeeper's Headquarters is filled with the destitute and the hungry. Though I carry a small amount of money with me when I walk outside, I only actually give change to a beggar who looks like he or she is can actually survive (as appose to the ones who are clearly beyond the point of all hope). I would wonder if it was all pointless, if not for the look of pure rejoicing in their eyes when they see that the thing I placed in their hands is money. Money which can buy a meal, which in turn can keep him or her alive for a bit longer (by which time I hope they find a food source or a job ).

Not that I have to reject anyone's pleas: not a single person as come up to me to ask for change. Whenever I walk down the streets of through the farms, every single civilian goes out of their way to avoid me. No matter how crowded the street is, there is always a bubble around me wherever I walk. It is as though nobody wants anything to do with me. While I can understand that they may not have had good experiences with peacekeepers, it is still a little hurtful that they see me as just a faceless bad guy and not as a human being. I guess this also comes as a shock because of my experiences with peacekeepers; In District 2, peacekeepers are beloved and revered. In District 12, Peacekeepers (sans Cray) have been known to be friendly with people and to sometimes fall in love with people there.

Still, I do my best to behave the way a Peacekeeper should. I try to be the type of Peacekeeper Major Campbell would want me to be, a heroic Peacekeeper who tries to protect the weak. That is much easier said than done.

Whenever I am on field duty, I have had to use the threat of whipping to get tired cotton pickers to continue working: I was on orders to ensure none of them took breaks and the other peacekeepers on the field shift would have told if I did let them take breaks. However, half of the Peacekeepers on field duty do not even bother with warnings first and resort strait to whipping. I at least try to avoid raising my hand in violence if I can; I not only threaten but also provide positive encouragement and if a worker is clearly at the point of exhaustion than I will even let him or her drink as much water as they need from the metal canteen Peacekeepers are issued to help us deal with the hot and sweltering sun of this equatorial district. If I have to use my whip than I try to aim close enough to get them working again but not close enough to actually cut them.

I try to avoid hurting people, but sometimes it is not possible.

I am standing at attention with about seven other peacekeepers each from different units, we are all waiting for Headpeacekeeper Clark to enter the room so she can give her orders. She arrives, and does just that.

"You men are no doubt wondering why you are here, and I won't keep you waiting. Peacekeepers, in five hours there is going to be an execution in the District Square. You are to be the firing squad which carries out the orders."

Wait? What?!

"What did they do? Why do they deserve to die?"

"Are you talking out of line? I'm going to let you off with a warning, but if you repeat this act of arrogance again than you will be thrown in the brig. For your information, a group of seven civilians attempted to escape the confines of the fence during nighttime. They were caught, and their plan thwarted. Of the seven, only three survived the attempt. This alone would already be reason enough for the death penalty, but their escape attempt also resulted in the death of five peacekeepers. Two peacekeepers died to friendly fire, one was murdered, one died trying to save an escaper who was caught in the electrified fence, and a fifth peacekeeper died of weapons malfunction."

It is clear by the annoyance in Headpeacekeeper Clark's voice that she was getting to that before I interrupted her.

My mind is racing, panicking almost. No matter how hard I look my mind can not find a way out of this situation. If I try to press further, I will surely get thrown in the brig. Honestly, that would normally be preferable to having to end someone's life again. In a few months I will be let out and the raffle might not choose me again.

But that would not be fair to the others.

What right have I to opt out of executions? That will just lay the guilt with the others, and that is not even my worst fear. My worst fear is that if I get myself thrown in the brig, my replacement on the firing squad will be someone like Leo who might not be able to handle the guilt as well as I can.

Whether or not I pull the trigger, this does not change the fact that I am still a murderer. Because of me Jack Green is dead, and nothing I can ever do will wash away my crime. So I am in no position to complain.

We have some time to wait before the execution. We do not talk, we do not say anything. We simply wait in silence, hoping time will stop and occasionally exchanging glances. There is an unspoken agreement that none of us look forward to the execution.

Once the waiting time was over, we were marched to the District Square.

Bound to wooden poles were three civilians. Their clothes were ragged, and in their eyes was a look of resignation.

Standing around the platform are several other peacekeepers, they are holding semiautomatic machine guns and were facing outward towards the crowd of people which was gathered around to watch.

One peacekeeper read the charges.

"Thomas Bard, Lewis Bard, and Donald Harvest, you three have been found guilty of attempting to run away. You three have also been found guilty of eight counts of manslaughter and one count of murder. You're sentence is death by firing squad. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

The three condemned just shake their heads.

The peacekeeper now addresses us.

"Firing Squad, get in position."

We march into position.

In a few seconds I will pull the trigger and execute those three. I will end their lives because they tried to escape and find a place where people would not beat them. No! Don't think like that: they murdered someone. They were desperate, people act out when they are desperate. That's still no excuse. It might have been in self defense.

This would be easier if I at least knew the details of their conviction. I am in the dark about these details and for all I know they are being punished for something else. Why didn't I speak up earlier?!

"Take aim."

Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out.

I level my gun, sure to get a clear shot.

I sorry ...

"Fire".

We all pull the trigger, sending bullets flying into the three men.


	19. Chapter 19:Sleep

When I get my resting hour, I fall apart. All I can do is crawl into bed and shove as much of the pillow as possible into my mouth so that nobody will notice my screams or my sobs. I had the foresight to cover myself with the blanket first, so nobody would see me either.

When I woke up, it was in the middle of the night and thankfully is was without having dreamt of anything at all.

There is no way at all I am going to risk going back to sleep, as that would mean exposing myself to nightmares.

For a little while, I simply stare at the ceiling. But after almost nodding off two times I decide I need to find a way to keep myself occupied. Slipping down from bed, I open my personal belongings chest as quietly as I can. While I am afraid of waking someone, fortunately the loud snoring of other sleeping peacekeepers is able to hide what little sound I make.

I clearly need to tell someone my problems, and I am too terrified of how my friends will react. They are not the judgmental type, but I am still afraid. So I am writing to a friend who is in District 2, because he told me I could write him anytime I wanted.

_**Dear Major Campbell, **_

_**Please, I beg you, under no circumstances tell anyone about what I am writing you. **_

_**Today I had to execute someone. They were executed for murder and for trying to escape. **_

_** I still feel horrible, and really need advice on how to handle my guilt. **_

_**Sincerely, **_

_**Peacekeeper Peeta Mellark**_

After signing my name, I put the letter in an envelope. I know it is on the short side, but it is all I can make myself write without breaking down.

I will send it tomorrow, when the post office is open.

For now I go back to bed. I stare at the ceiling, and eventually drift off to sleep.

* * *

I am in the backyard of my childhood home, a four year old crying in the mud from a particular nasty beating. My father, my kind and gentle father, just returned home from the store with bags of flour under each arm. He set them on the kitchen table, and when he heard my sobbing he came outside and saw my condition.

"Peeta. What happened to you?"

I try to open my mouth to tell him, but when I do more crying is the only thing that comes out.

He did not press further, but instead he picked me up and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the tears from my eyes and the mud from my bruises. All the while he was cooing softly into my ear.

"Shhhhhhhhhh, its okey. Daddy's here."

My sobbing stopped, and were reduced to a whimper as he rocked me in his arms.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word. Daddy's gonna find you a mockingbird ..."

Slowly and gently, he repeated the nursery to me and tousled my hair tenderly. After I was almost asleep in his arms, he whispered into my ears a promise.

"No matter what happens, Daddy will always love you."

* * *

You would think this warm memory would have put me in a good mood. You would also be wrong to think that.

When I wake up, I am not in a good mood. I am reminded that I will never see anyone I care about for as long as I live.

I will never see my loving father again, nor will I see my brothers, nor my neighbors, nor Katniss, nor anyone else I know. As far as any of them will ever know, I was privately executed two years ago in the prison. I know that Katniss was not in the hunger games, and neither was Delly, and neither were either of my brothers. I still have know idea if they are alive or dead, and I am still petrified by the fear of them succumbing to illness or starvation or frost.

In any case, I am on my own now.

* * *

**Authors note: See if you can guess who beat Peeta up? **


	20. Chapter 20: Reply

I sent the letter, and waited for it to arrive.

I waited and waited and waited.

During the time that I waited, I patrolled the streets of the central city and the fields of the district farms. Despite the sweltering heat, the people are never given a single break or respite. They just keep working endlessly in the backbreaking sun, while Peacekeepers complain about just having to stand in the heat. While it could be argued that the civilians do not have to wear sweltering armor, it could also be argued that they (unlike Peacekeepers) have to work longer hours with less food and little to no water. They clearly have the short end of the stick, probably receiving back in food less than five percent of what they grow.

Meanwhile, Peacekeepers get good food. Since District 11 is a food producing District, that means the diet of the Peacekeepers there is supplemented with local produce. In addition to our Barracks Mush, we also get fruits, vegetables, and other assorted nutrients such as honey.

I never ate honey before coming to District 11, but I found that it has a good taste to it. I am sure that I could use use honey for baking ... only I'll never be able to bake again. Or even see home for that matter. Nero still refuses to even try honey, stating that he does not like the look of it.

After seeing the diet of a Peacekeeper, I still get angry when I see a civilian in the square getting flogged for stealing a few kernels of corn.

The only person who seems to be thriving is Donner; he was assigned to flog someone six days ago and he is still in a good mood from having to do it. His grin just makes me want to punch his teeth out, and I am not the only one.

He actually calls me lucky for getting to kill someone, and it takes every fiber of my being not to punch his face into a bloody mess. Once he leaves the room, I end up punching my bed mattress to get the anger out of me. It gets broken, and an Avox has to bring in another one.

In any case, I spend my time waiting for the letter to come. I try to hide my anxiety, talking with my friends and playing High-Low Jacks with the others, but in the back of my mind I am wondering why the letter did not come.

It took a week, but the letter finally came.

It read the following.

**_Dear Peacekeeper Peeta Mellark, _**

**_I understand that what you had to go through was difficult, but you must trust me when I tell you that it is not your fault._**

**_Sooner or later, every Peacekeeper will end up being ordered to end someone's life. Even I had to execute someone once, and it remember I felt sick to my stomach for a month afterwards. It was one of the worst moments in my service. _**

**_The guilt and sickness you are feeling is perfectly natural, and it is okey to feel this way. Do not for a moment think that it is because you are a bad person or because something is wrong with you. _**

**_I have known you for a two years, and I know you are a good person. Remember that even good people find themselves in unpleasant situations. _**

**_I am always here to talk if you need anything, or if you feel like talking to someone. _**

**_Major Campbell._**

Somehow, his words are able to make me feel better. The knowledge that me am not alone in my qualms is comfort enough. While I still feel guilty and glum, I can at least take solace in the feeling that I am not alone in how I feel. It appears that once again I am aware of how Peacekeepers rely on each other for support.

Maybe, just maybe, my morality might be able to survive the two decades of my service.


	21. Chapter 21:First Arrest

I knock firmly on the door of the longhouse, loud enough that anyone inside will hear it. With me are three other Peacekeepers.

I am making an arrest.

We received a tip off that this was the location of a brothel, and as such the owner is to be arrested as are his ... employees. On one hand, I am well aware that in District 12 the poorer girls of the Seam had to allow Cray to sleep with them in exchange for money which they could use to feed their families. At least one such girls ended up hanging herself in the dilapidated school bathroom. It is clear that very few would choose this life by choice.

On the other hand, these people are clearly breaking the law and deserve to be punished. Since I am not the one giving out the sentence, I can only hope that they get something like flogging and can hopefully live long enough to find honest work and the food that comes with it.

In any case, I will not have to kill anyone unless there are resistances to arrest.

The door opens, and a man in farmer clothes greets us.

"Is there a problem?"

I answer, using a firm voice. "We need to check the premises."

"Just make it quick." His voice has unveiled hostility, so it is clear he does not want us here. It could be because he is guilty and wants to hide his guilt, or it could be because he is innocent and does not like us invading his privacy.

In any case, we look carefully while the man who greeted us and five other men here are standing in a corner.

So far, we do not find anything out of the ordinary: just the inside of a filthy and muddy hovel. Then one of the other peacekeepers addresses me.

"Sir, you might want to see this."

I walk over to what he is talking about, and see a trapdoor in one of the corners.

My stomach is warning me that I probably will not like what I see in there, still we must leave no stone unturned.

Under the longhouse is a small room, one which looks like it was never cleaned once. However, what shocks us is the content of the room.

About seven girls are down there, their hands tied behind their backs with rope and some of them having burlap sacks over their heads. They are dressed in scant rags, so the scars they bare on their bodies can be seen clearly: whether they got these scars from being whipped or from resisting ... I do not know and I do not want to know. The worst part is that two of the girls look underage.

It makes me so sick that I feel a burning hear rising in my throat. I fall to my knees, pull off my helmet, and vomit on the ground. The bile hurt as it left my throat, but I had no way of keeping it in. I can see that two of the other peacekeepers are shaking with horror, and the third one is clenching his fists in anger (presumably he has more experience and was therefor desensitized).

When I finally am able to speak, I address the six monsters in the corner. My voice is an uneven shout.

"You're under arrest for human trafficking. Put your hands behind your heads right now!"

Another peacekeeper, the angry one also gives an order. "Once you do that, get down on your knees or else I'll blow your brains out!"

The sons of bitches do as they are told. But one of them, probably aware that he's facing execution (it's what he deserves), decides to bring one of us down with him.

Grabbing a rusty knife from the ground, he jumps at us. He is clearly aiming at me as I did not put my helmet back on. However, before he can reach me the angry peacekeeper fills his chest with lead. He falls face down onto the feces-coated floor.

We call in backup to bring all these people in, and also request a medic to treat the girls for any medical problems they may have.

The girls are not arrested, as they were forced against their will. In fact, their testimonies proved the final nail in the monsters casket.

When I get back to the base, my friends congratulate me on my first arrest, but when they sense I am not in the mood they let up and give me the space I need.

During the rest period, I watch a movie with the other peacekeepers as a way to distract myself. This one is about Captain Blight, and I have to day it is entertaining watching this sea Captain (who coincidentally has a District 2 accent) lead his men across a vast ocean on an overcrowded rowboat. Once again, the people who mutinied against him are portrayed as villains for condemning him and others to apparent doom despite him doing no wrong.

Like I often do when I witness a horror, I draw a picture of the event so that I can face it in a healthy way. My collection of pictures is growing steadily, but fortunately I can always buy paper and pencils at the depot.

The only good thing about today is that those girls will no longer have to suffer.


	22. Chapter 22:Patrol

Right now I am on guard duty, standing at a length of the electrified and razor wired fence, making sure nobody tries to climb over it.

Our orders are to shoot on sight, but if I find someone trying to escape I may or may not "miss" so that the would-be escapees have a chance to retreat to the shadows of the Central City and not die.

It is nighttime, and for the time being I am alone with my thoughts.

Specifically, my thoughts are of the execution this morning. I thankfully did not have to actually preform the execution this time, but instead was guarding the District Square when it happened. The monsters I arrested were found guilty of forced prostitution, rape, murder, and many other horrific crimes. Since some of their victims were underage (and therefore children), the monsters were sentenced to death by fire. While I personally think a hanging would have sufficed, I am not shedding any tears for those sons of bitches.

Despite being a dark night, it is not cold in the slightest. The nighttime weather here is warm and muggy, punctuated with an equally warm breeze. It is not unpleasant on its own, but the temperature feels somewhat unnatural to me, probably because I am used to the freezing cold which is commonplace in District 12.

I often have memoirs of staying outside in the freezing cold at night, usually to hide away from a beating. Whenever my beloved father found me outside, I just told him that I was scared without admitting what was scaring me. He would nonetheless calm me down and assure me that he would not let anything happen to me.

My thoughts are interrupted, as I can see a Peacekeeper walking up to me. When he addresses me, I can tell by his lilt voice that it is Gregory.

"Peeta Mellark, it's good to be seein' you here."

"You too. I take it you're the other guard?"

"I am indeed. It is cold tonight, but at least it won't be rainin'."

"Careful, you might give the clouds ideas."

We both chuckle at this, as it is silly to assume that talking about rain will increase the chances of it raining. Still, people can be irrational that way.

After our chuckling dies down, I continue the conversation.

"Do you ever get homesick?"

"Oh I do, yes. I'm missin' the trees and the rivers, and my neighbors and my home. It's just ..."

He trails off, and I can feel him sinking into his morose again.

"Family troubles?"

"How did you know?"

"I'm no stranger to it myself."

Since neither of us want to talk about it, we have another pause. During this, we listen in the area around us for anything suspicious.

We do not see anything at all, so we talk more.

"Where are the others stationed?"

"Nero Mariner is guardin' a granary, as is Leo. I think Connor Loom is guarding the train station."

"Well, that's good to know."

We wait there until our shifts are over, talking back and forth.

I think I can manage this for the next two decades. As for what the hellfire I'll do when my service ends and I get sent to life out my days in District 2, I haven't the slightest idea. Well, I know I ever get married since the person I love is in District 12 and probably thinks I killed Jack out of malice; but I would rather not think about that. I suppose I could use my post-service pension to find some way to survive.

Anyway, it appears that I am a pawn in that I just get moved around without free will. But I still hope I will get a chance to show the Capitol that I am more than a faceless pawn.

More than that, I really, really hope I actually am more than a pawn.


	23. Chapter 23:Injury

When my eyes open, I am in immense pain.

I appear to be in a bed, in a wing of the District 11 Peacekeeper's Hospital. I am plagued by a headache which caused me to let out a groan with every throb.

How did I end up here?

Less than ten minutes after I wake up, someone comes to explain what happened. That someone is Headpeacekeeper Clark.

She does not even try to hide the frustration in her voice, so I can tell that she is upset with me about something.

"You just couldn't resist it, could you?"

"What? I don't ..."

"The security cameras caught this video. Maybe it will freshen your memory."

She places a handheld hologram projector on the chest in front of the bed, and it shows what happened.

It appears to be a road of the District 11 Central City, about midday. Three Peacekeepers are patrolling the street, and a peacekeeper armored trucI is driving down the road in the opposite direction, but a few civilians are also walking on the dirt sidewalks.

What catches my eye is a small child, about six years in age, wandering into the street with apparent obliviousness to the incoming truck. I watch in horror expecting a tragedy, but it seems that one of the peacekeepers on patrol also sees this and decides to act.

In a split second he lunges forward, pushing the child to safety with the side effect of placing himself right in the middle of the truck's path. Just as it hits him, the memories flood back.

"That's me?"

"Yes. That idiot jumping in front of a moving vehicle is you."

"Is the boy alright?"

"Yes, he's fine. Do you have any idea how irresponsible that is? Personally, I wouldn't care if the vehicle killed you right then or there; but every time a peacekeeper dies doing something retarded it makes my job much harder. A peacekeeper died trying to pull a someone off of the electric fence, and it took two months to fill out all the paperwork."

I sarcastically reply, "Sorry if I made your job harder."

"I still don't see why the hellfire you risked your life for some half-starved street urchin. He'll probably grow up to be sent to the gallows for thieving anyway, if he doesn't get himself killed by next week."

I am only able to restrain my temper because the accident left me with no energy.

"Is ... this ... all you came to tell me, ma'am?"

"If it were up to me, idiots like you would be dishonorably discharged."

With that, she finally leaves me alone. Now I am greeted by a doctor, who appears to have been waiting next to Headpeacekeeper Clark so that he could tell me about my condition once she was done.

"What's up, doc?"

"Well, you have three broken ribs, a broken leg, and your foot was broken in four places. Don't worry, they should all be healed up with three months rest. Quite frankly, you're lucky to be alive."

"Why am I alive?"

"Well, your armor took the blunt of the damage. Your helmet also prevented brain damage, though you might have a bad headache for another week."

"What about the boy?"

"Him? He's alright. No injuries to speak of, just a few scratches is all."

The boy is alive, and that's all that matters.


	24. Chapter 24: Hospital

So far, I have spent a single day in the hospital.

Completely bedridden, I can not get up for any reason. This means that an Avox brings me food for my meals. This also means I have to ... do my business ... in a shallow metal chamber pot called a 'bedpan'. In any case, I must now wait until my wounds are healed.

Well I wait, I take note of the others in the hospital. Some are here from injuries acquired either accidentally or through the malicious acts of others. Some are here as treatment for disease. Some are simply getting check-ups. In any case, I am not alone for long.

It is when I am eating my lunch, a bowl of turnip soup, a patient I recognize is taken to the vacant hospital bed next to mine. He lies down, and for a few short seconds he tries in vain to sleep. Once he gives us and let out a sigh of frustration, I make my presence known.

"Nero?"

He turns onto his side, and when he sees me he smiles. "Peeta, its good to see you. How'd you end up here?"

"I should be asking you the same, but if you must know I got hit by an armored truck."

"That sucks."

"What about you? I assume they wouldn't give you a bed just for a regular check up."

"Well, you know how everyones been saying how I should try honey? Turns out I'm allergic to it."

This is a shock, and I feel guilty for suggesting to him that he try honey. "I'm sorry. I wouldn't have recommended it if I had known."

He just hand waves it away, showing he has no hard feelings towards me. "Don't worry; doc was able to inject me with something. Now the medics are just keeping me here to do some more tests and make sure I don't bloat up eating anything else."

"That's oddly charitable of them."

"It makes sense a practical standpoint. A peacekeeper dying from food allergy would lower moral a bit."

"That makes sense."

"So anyway, tell me about how you got hit by an armored truck?"

I explained what happened, and expect nothing. What I get is a reaction of speechlessness.

"Is something wrong?"

By his answer, I find that he was only silent because of how impressed he was. "No, nothing's wrong at all. Just that you're a heroic son of a bitch."

I smile, as I know Nero means 'son of a bitch' in a friendly way. Still, I don't want or need praise for what I did. It is just the right thing to do, and I am sure my friends would have done the same in my place.

"I'm not a hero."

Nero shook his head, "You always were modest."

"Seriously, I'm not a hero."

"Well, don't be surprised if people say otherwise."

Wanting to change the conversation, I ask a question.

"So, apart from the allergies, how did it taste?"

"Well, in the few seconds before I swelled up, it tasted kinda sweet."

We laugh over this some more, and we are at ease.

We spend the rest of the day either cracking jokes or rambling on about various things. Eventually, when it was time to sleep did so ... or at least tried to. It was difficult to sleep with the beeping of the various machines in the hospital, so I just closed my eyes and tried in vain to sleep.

After tossing and turning for an hour, I just give up and stare at the ceiling.

It is in nights like these that I try to keep myself calm. Back home I would have reminded myself that my dad was at home and therefore I hopefully won't get beaten up.

Now I remind myself that there is nobody here who desires to hurt me, and that I am stronger than I was before. Not just physically stronger (thought the exercise I did here certainly did not weaken me in that area), but also mentally. I have faced down challenges that I never before thought within my capacity, and have accomplished more than I thought myself capable of.

But none of that changes the fact that I am still a murderer.


	25. Chapter 25:Light duty

After about a month, I am finally deemed healthy enough to return for service. I was given one last physical to ensure my health, and after that I was let out.

Nero was released two weeks early, and fortunately he was not allergic to anything else. They gave him a syringe of something, with the instruction that he carry it on him at all times and inject himself with it if he has an allergic reaction again. Supposedly the syringe contains something that could counteract the reaction and save his life, but I never understood science (though this could be because the teachers in District 12 was on the lackluster side of things).

While I was in the hospital, I was able to hear about changes back in my old home. Most notably I learned that the Dishonorable Headpeacekeeper Cray was sent to District 2 in chains and handcuffs, having been arrests on charges of corruption, gross misconduct (including solicitation of starving and desperate prostitutes), embezzlement, miscarriage of justice, and statutory rape (it turns out some of the girls who went to his door for food lied about their age). Cray is still being tried my the court martial but it is clear he will face dishonorable discharge and a lifetime of hard labor, if he isn't sent to the gallows. While this will not feed the many bastard children conceived to his nightly visitors, it is still good he is going to face justice for his crimes. When I heard about this, my knee jerk reaction was to be happy the perverted son of a bitch was being punished. However, I became less happy when I learned that he would be replaced by Headpeacekeeper Romulus Thread.

I know about Romulus Thread by the reputation he earned throughout his years. He was born to a "respectable" District 2 family, and three of his siblings were Career Tributes. He graduated at the top of his class, and from there rose rapidly through the ranks.

He is most known for his unyielding devotion to the law, and for taking a draconian stance on crime. Every district he is sent to sees a rapid decline in unemployment and crime, as well as a rapid increase in output and tesserae consumption. Based on what I know about him, I can deduce that Thread is not a corrupt person; he doesn't solicit sex from starving woman and he doesn't punish someone without evidence. However, his devotion to the law is what makes him dangerous for District 12. He has the delusional belief that people only break the law out of malice or greed, and he is unlikely to ever realize the truth of the situation in District 12. The people break the law there (by illegally hunting or running black markets) because to not do so would mean dying by starvation and watching their families do the same. People will take the risk of breaking a law punishable by death if the only alternative is slower and more painful death.

It is not to say all the laws are fair; hunting and running markets like the Hob have not resulted in anyone getting hurt, and learning about Panem's legal makeup makes laws like those seem even more arbitrary than they already are. Still, one man can't change anything, and I first need to focus on surviving. Since I got out of the hospital, it is clear my injuries were not mortal.

Since we just got out of the hospital, we got four months of light duty to ease us back into regular duty. This would be fine, but I noticed that I have been getting attention.

When I patrol the halls of the Peacekeeper's Headquarters, the other peacekeepers will stop to look at me or even salute me. When I talk to them, they will sometimes tell me how brave I was.

When I mailed Major Campbell a letter explaining what happened (I mail and receive letters to and from him on a regular basis), he responded by telling me how he felt I was an example of what a peacekeeper should be and that he was proud of me. Ever since I got separated from my father, I have been in need of someone to give me advice and to tell me everything going to be all right. I still did not tell Campbell about the less-than-ideal aspects of my childhood, but with each day I am less and less afraid to do so. My nightmares are still a problem, but like all my worst problems I just deal with this one by living one day at a time.

Even the Avox's seem less afraid of me as they are of the other peacekeepers. Normally Avox's cower in fear around peacekeepers, but when they see my name tag or my ID Card they breath a sigh of relief or otherwise become immediately less frightened. Hellfire, the one who serves meals in the mess hall even smiled at me when I thanked him for the food. In the time I spent here, I have not seen a single Avox smile. For that matter, I have never seen an Avox who was not in a state of constant terror or constant depression. Then again, if my tongue was cut out than I would be upset too.

The only person who does not think I am a hero, apart from the Headpeacekeeper, is Donner. If anything, he seems to loathe or even hate me. This does not surprise me, as it is in line with his behavior to hate me despite my not directly doing anything to hurt him. While Avox's are afraid of peacekeepers in general, they are absolutely terrified of Donner and his friends. Well, you can't be liked by everybody. Donner is one of the people who I do Not want to like me: if he is my enemy than that means I am doing something right.

Still, I do not deserve the fame nor do I deserve the glory. I do not deserve it, because I am not a hero.


	26. Chapter 26:Confessions

Today I was presented with a medal. It was the meritorious service medal; apparently enough people were talking about what I did that they began to ask why I was not formally rewarded. Needless to say, Headpeacekeeper Clark was not happy. When she placed the medal on my uniform, there was an undisguised look of hatred on her face. In any case, I am not afraid: Clark is too devoted of the rules to arrange for an "accident" to get me out of the picture.

In the same ceremony I was also promoted to the rank of Corporal.

The ceremony itself was rather simple, and I am thankful for that. I do not like to be the center of attention.

While all the other Peacekeepers were congratulating me, I was completely numb. I had no feeling in me, and took no interest in the things that previously interested me. There was only one thought was on my mind.

I do not deserve any of this.

For about a week after my promotion, I was unable to say anything other than what I had to. I was, for all intent and purposes, numb. This must have caused some of my friends to worry about me, because one day during patrol Gregory took me aside to find out what is wrong with me.

"Peeta Mellark, what is botherin' you? You've been withdrawn lately, and we're worrying."

I try to speak, but can not. I try again, and this time I can only mumble a bit.

"I don't deserve it."

"What are you meaning?"

"I don't deserve it, I'm not a good person."

"What is making you say that?"

I never had any intention of ever telling anyone why I was chosen for the Auxilia Program. Deep down I feared that none of them would accept me if they knew, they would all renounce me and I would no longer have friends. Well, that is what I deserve.

"I'm a murderer. Back in District 12, I used to wrestle with other boys at the school. In one wrestling match I broke my classmate's neck. I ended his life, and instead of being hung they gave me a fucking medal! I don't deserve this promotion; I don't deserve any of this. I deserve to be executed!"

Now is the part where he tells me I am a monster, that he no longer wishes to be my friend.

"First of all, the medal they gave you was for solely for saving a child's life. Secondly, you're not a murderer."

At this I became angry: I do not need to be lied to.

"I ended Jack's life! How the hell can you stand there and tell me I didn't murderer him."

At this Gregory's voice becomes weary, sad, and bitter.

"Because I know what murder it."

This surprises me. Gregory has been like an older brother since the day I met him, and all that time we never knew how the other got in the Auxilia Program. I do not say anything, but instead I let him continue.

"I heard from my coworkers that my wife was cheating on me again, after I had already forgiven her for the first time. Angry, when I went home I confronted her on it. Rather than deny it or apologize like she did the first time, or even try to rationalize it, she admitted the fact and stated that she was felt no guilt over what she did. We never got along, and so it never took too much to start a heated argument. This one was really heated, as she told me that she never loved me and that she would wishes she never married me. I lost my temper, and punched her in the face. I never hit my wife before."

He was arrested for spousal abuse? Before I can ask, he answers that for me.

"When I hit her, she fell down and banged her head against the table. I got scared, shook her, and promised her I would never hurt her again if she woke up; it was too late."

I try to speak, but I can not. This is so much information that my mind can not take it in. My friend, the man who was like a big brother to me, killed his wife. Try though I might I can not visualize my friend, a man who encouraged me during the final test and who always looked after me, striking his wife.

Gregory does not wait for me. Instead he leaves, but not before giving some parting words.

"I would understand if you hate me, it has been almost three years since then and I still hate myself. I think I always will."


	27. Chapter 27:Attention

After ten minutes I am still standing on the side of the road, dizzy from my conversation with Gregory. He left to continue his patrol, assuming I hate him. Right now I am too dizzy to follow, or even to stand. I lean against the wall of a building, hoping to get some rest. This only makes me realize that it is king of stuffy in this helmet.

Scratch that; it it extremely stuffy.

Scratch that too; I'm suffocating.

I NEED AIR NOW!

Feeling my heartbeat increase rapidly as I panic over the air decrease, I rip the helmet off my head and gulp air in greedily. Once my breaths return to normal, I inspect the inside of my helmet to find out what is making it so hard to breath with that thing on. I quickly find the problem ... there is nothing wrong with the helmet. It is probably just my imagination which made breathing hard. Still, as soon as I get the chance to I am going to take it to the armory to get it checked for flaws.

It is once my brewing stops that I realize that a crowd of civilians has gathered around me. They look as though they recognize me, bough from where I lack the slightest idea.

On the bright side, they do not seem angry or afraid of me. That is at least good.

Someone from the crowd asks a question, "What's your name?"

I look around, but I can not see who asked. However, from his accent I can tell he is native to District 11.

"My name is Corporal Peeta Mellark. I wish I could stay to talk, but I have to get going."

They seem to understand, and let me through.

I walk back to the base, where it is time for training.

After some target practice, I feel that my marksmanship is proficient so I go to practice fighting with a baton.

While I practice beating back the holograms used in training (to simulate the feel of being cornered against a wall in an actual riot), I feel myself become angry. This is due, in part, to the fact that when I lash out at the holograms my mother comes to mind.

My mother, who outright told me to my face that she does not love me, who beat me until I bled, who on my twelfth birthday told me she hopes I get reaped. But I am not angry because of how she treated me; I am angry that my father and my brothers are not free of her.

In any case I take my anger out on the lifeless holograms, to the point that if they were real humans that they would be dead. Once I am done with that, I notice that I can hear myself breathing. This is when I get scared. I do not want to become an angry person, nor do I want to become someone who loses his temper. I should work to control my anger so I do not inadvertently do something that I will regret.

As soon as training is done, I head to my patrol route. For some reason, people seem to recognize me. Like the other Peacekeepers in the Base, they stop to look at me and a rare few even salute me.

I still do not like being famous.

Once that is done, I head to the mess hall for the third meal of the day. I stand in line, thank the Avox for the food (he smiles in response), and exit the line.

I see Gregory eating in a corner, and I go to talk to him.

"Hello."

He just nods.

I do not know what to say, so I just take the blunt route. "I don't hate you."

"Why not?"

I know less about this than I do about the previous statement, so I just go out on a limb. "I'm not a hypocrite, I can't judge you for something I'm also guilty of."

When he opens his mouth to object, I glare at him in a way that suggests he probably should not try.

Instead, he changes the subject.

"I heard they finished the Court Martial."

He does not need to specify; everybody in a white uniform knows that Cray was being tried for his perverse crimes.

I gesture for Gregory to continue.

"They sentenced him to death. A few of his girls are underage, and that means he'll burn."

I am not sad; he deserves to die.

We talk more about other things, and I can see Gregory does not look as sad as he did before I sat down. I hope he feels better soon.


	28. Chapter 28:Gratitude

Today is a regular day, no different from any other day.

I patrol the streets of District 11, and a few people stop to watch or wave to me. I politely wave back. However, things very quickly become less typical.

At one point on my route, a large group of people gather in front of the road. The people seem to be intent on stopping me, but they do not seem upset at me. In fact, it is quite the opposite: they seem happy to see me. I stop, and before I can do anything the crowd parts to allow someone to approach me.

The man who approaches me is a man in his late thirties; judging by his clothing he is probably a farmer or a grain carrier. He walks with a limp, dragging his left leg along with him as he goes. Like most people native to District 11, his skin is dark. Walking behind him is a boy who looks to be about my age, as well as an infant who looks oddly familiar.

The man, presumably the father of the two boys, looks up at me. I can tell he is trying to look into my eyes, but is unable to as a result of the sun reflecting off my visor. I make things easier for him and take my helmet off.

He asks a question. "Are you Corporal Mellark?"

I was not expecting this question, nor do I know how he figured out my name, but I still feel I should give an answer.

"Yes."

He then extends his arm for a handshake.

"Thank you for saving my boy."

I grip his hand in a handshake, and he pulls me in for a hug.

After that is finished, I try to explain that I do not deserve thanks. That I am not a hero.

"I appreciate that, but-"

He cuts me off right there. "Don't be modest. If it was not for your actions, my son would be a goner. I owe you more gratitude than I could ever repay; ever since the Pox took his Mom from us, my children have been all I have."

He is so sincere when he says this, and I am so nervous, that I am unable to speak or even move my mouth.

The man's infant son, the child I saved, walks up to me. I can see that he has a few bruises on his arms and legs, probably from when I pushed him out of the truck's path. There are none on his face, so I assume he threw his arms up to block his fall.

"Are you the guardian angel?"

I am still unable to speak, so his father answers my question for me. I do not know what an 'angel' is, but I think it is a District 11 word.

"This is the man who saved you. Go on, introduce yourself."

"Hewwo sir. My names Ethan Sickle."

I do not know what it is about the sentence, perhaps it is how innocent he sounds when he says it, but this causes me to smile.

I tousle his black hair with my hand, and I respond. "It is nice to meet you. My name is Peeta Mellark."

"Mr. Mewwark, thankses for saving me. I promise I'll be careful."

"No need to thank me, it was just the right thing to do."

* * *

When I finally return to the barracks, it appears that word of my encounter has spread around a bit.

Most seem to be thinking that I am a hero (which I am not), and I have long since given up trying to correct them.

In any case, I am glad when I can finally relax after a day of patrolling in the hot sun. I play a few games of Draughts (a simplistic board game involving round pieces) with with Leo; he is actually very good at this game and wins three games for every one he loses.

After I get tired, I go to my bed to draw a bit. I have a habit of drawing things of not that happen to me; it gives me a good way to both reflect on peaceful moments and to deal with painful memories in a relatively healthy way, it also fills the same function of a diary since I often write the date and a one sentence description on the back.

Needless to say I never allow anyone to see my pictures.

Right now I am drawing a picture of my encounter today, and it is not until I am halfway done that I look up and notice something.

Donner Loom is sitting on his bunk, three bunks down from mine. He is scowling at me while polishing his combat knife to keep it sharp.

I knew that he hated me, but I am not afraid. He is too much of a craven to actually do anything.

I once asked Conner why his brother is such an asshole, at which point Conner began a long and drawn out rant on every single thing that was bad about his twin brother.

When they were both ten, they got a job selling morphling. An old woman who lived in the same tenement building would brew morphling in an alleyway by using various chemicals. They both knew that morphling was one of the worst drugs in existence, but because they were to slow for pick pocketing the only alternative was starvation (Conner commented that girls in their position either try to marry someone's son or failing that resort to prostitution, whereas boys simply starve to death). They made about as much money as an overseer made, so they didn't go hungry after that (according to Conner the food there still tasted like shit). Conner explained that he tried to avoid selling to children or to pregnant women whenever he could. However, Donner had no such scruples in his business practices. He sold to everyone, and did not give a crap if a pregnant addict's child was born with addiction: he just saw it as more customers. Worse than that was what Donner spent his money on: beer and prostitutes (I personally freed enslaved girls from monsters, and I suspect that in District 8 similar things happen). In fact, it was supposedly Donner's fault they were caught.

He is clearly not a nice man. But I still think Donner is too much a coward to actually do anything to someone who can fight back.

I am not defenseless. I spent two years learning various ways to fight, and have gotten fairly good scores. I am strong, I am a peacekeeper.


	29. Chapter 29: Kicked upstairs

"Please, sit down."

I do as the Headpeacekeeper says, sitting down in the metal folding chair which is in front of the Headpeacekeepers desk.

Headpeacekeeper Clark keeps an unsurprisingly spartan office: neither family photo nor personal belonging sits on her desk, just papers and writing utensils.

"I'm sure your wondering why I called you here."

I nod the affirmative.

"I called you here because you are going to be promoted."

Wait, what?

"You're unit commander recommended you for promotion to Major. Here, read it for yourself."

My unit commander, Commander Stewart, is not a very noteworthy man. He is neither particularly ruthless nor honorable, he just shows up for work. I suppose this is not entirely true and that if I got a better chance to know him he might have a personality, but he does not really distinguish himself. In any case, I am curious as to what he said about me.

**_Promotion Recommendation _**

**_Name: Peeta Mellark_**

**_Current Rank: Corporal_**

**_Current Post: Unit 34, Garrison Legion, District 11_**

**_Health: Good_**

**_Scores:_**

**_Marksmanship - Slightly Above Average_**

**_Melee Weaponry - Average_**

**_Hand to hand combat - Abysmal_**

**_Endurance - Above Average_**

**_Academic Intelligence - Average_**

**_Obedience - Average_**

**_Adaptability - Slightly Above Average_**

**_Trustworthiness - Above Average_**

**_Other Notes: Corporal Mellark has shown himself to be level headed and responsible, displaying temperance and self restraint with ease. He has also shown himself to be an honest lawman, unlikely to accept a bribe or to break the law in a serious way. _****_These, combined with his ability to get along with other soldiers makes him prime Officer Material._**

I knew my recent action attracted attention, but is never suspected my regular behavior would. In any case I suspected that Headpeacekeeper Clark would never let me get promoted, or at least that she would be upset by it.

It is offsetting how happy she seems to be promoting me; I have a feeling she is not just happy for me.

"Of course, it turns out that we already have more than enough Peacekeepers in District 11. This means that some Units will need to be transferred to places where they are needed more."

And there it is!

"I suppose you bring this up because my Unit is one of those that is being relocated?"

"If you must know, yes."

"Do I have permission to ask where we are being relocated to?"

"Your unit, along with three other units, is getting transferred to Fort Centurion. You should board the hovercraft tomorrow morning.

I learned about this fort in my training. Long before the Dark Days, the President of Panem ordered the construction of three large fortresses to defend the coastline of the northern wilderness. Fort Centurion and Fort Glacier protect the eastern coast, while Fort Barring protects the Western coast. I did not learn why the Capitol is investing effort in defending unsettled land, nor did I learn who they are guarding it from.

All I know is one thing; I wish my unit was getting sent to District 12.


	30. Chapter 30:Brother

I am awakened by the cold steel of a combat knife beneath my throat.

"G-g-get up."

I open my eyes and see that the person holding the knife is Donner; he looks like he got himself drunk to acquire something that can pass for courage.

"If you squeal I'll slit your throat right now."

I get up, and with a knice pressed against my back he and one of his lackeys (a peacekeeper I do not recognize) lead me out of the dormitory and to the courtyard.

This courtyard, like most others, contains trees, flowers, and a statue in the center. This statue is of Corporal Burnaby; he was a peacekeeper during the Dark Days who acted as an anti-rebellion partisan by attacking supply lines and picking off rebel soldiers. At one point, he even assassinated the leader of one of the three rebel factions. After the war ended, Burnaby got married and had kids; it is known that Brutus is his descendant.

The plaque under his statue reads the following message.

_**"Trust in your comrades, for they are your brothers."**_

I am lead to the statue, and pushed to the ground.

"On your knees."

I comply. Donner whispers something to his lackey, who then goes back to the bunk room to do whatever Donner asked.

Donner takes out a handgun and clumsily places a clip in it.

I guess this is the end.

"When, when he gets back here I'ma paint the courtyard with your brains."

I want to tell him that he is an honor less craven, that he is less than a rat's turd. However, that will probably result in him killing me right here and now. I still want to survive.

"Why do you hate me. What did I ever do to you?"

"You're an uppity prick. Everyone thinks you're better than me, but you're nothing. I bet you're still a virgin."

Yes, I am a virgin. There is nothing wrong with that; and in fact my restraint is one of the reasons listed for my promotion. In any case, I have never slept with slaves, and I am sure that is more than this douchbag can say.

"And now you're getting promoted; that means more money. You don't deserve that promotion."

Jealousy, that's it. It would almost be funny if he did not have a loaded gun in has hand.

Finally the other person comes, and judging by the sound of his footsteps he probably came alone.

Then I hear Conner's voice. "I thought he was joking."

"Brother, care to do the honors?"

I hope Conner will say no, but instead he walks calmly to his twin and takes the gun from his hand.

"I was worried it would be hard for you."

"No, it's the easiest decision I made in my life."

Now that's downright mean.

Having no way to escape, I close my eyes and wait for the end.

I hear five shots fire, but oddly enough I do not feel the pain. Perhaps this is because I am dying and my body is numb. If that is true, than why is my heart beating so damn loud?

When I finally open my eyes and look behind me, I see Conner holding a handgun. His face is expressionless, as though he is dead to all emotion.

His brother Donner is clutching his bloody chest for a few seconds, and then he falls facedown in the ground.


	31. Chapter 31: Centurion

My unit's departure from District 11 was delayed five hours, long enough for the investigators to get my side of the story. I have no doubt that Conner will be acquitted, but that does not make everything dandy. Since he is being investigated, he will kept in District 11 while the rest of the unit moves to Fort Centurion. After the investigation he will most likley be transferred to another unit in District 11. Still, I will send him a letter every day so that his spirits are high. I am sure that my other friends will do the same.

In any situation, it is not fun to be separated from a friend. Before I left, I wrote and mailed a letter to Major Campbell asking how he dealt with separation from friends. Pi hope it's reply is sent to the right place.

After having spent a year in District 11, I am being sent away. I feel much older than my nineteen years, but I suppose that is because I have seen more. I have certainly seen and done more than I would ever have expected to have. It is surreal to think how just three years ago I was expecting my life to be measured in seconds. The last thing in the world I was expecting was to be a mid ranking Peacekeeper. I always thought that my chances of NOT being a failure were on par with my chances of winning the Hunger Games: nonexistent.

I still can not ever get married, but in a bigger way I never would have been able to regardless of whether or not I became a Peacekeeper. There is only one woman who I would be willing to spend the rest of my life with, and I do not think she would ever be willing to marry me. She is probably already married by now; she is so beautiful and kind that anyone would be lucky to hold her hand in matrimony. To look into her eyes as they both repeat to eachother the vows of and feed eachother the toast in their new home. To wake up each and every morning next to her. To hold in his hands a newborn baby that they both created together in an act of love. To spend the rest of their lives together.

I realize I am daydreaming, and shake myself out of it. No good comes of beating myself up thinking of what is beyond my reach; even if it was legal to marry a Peacekeeper she would never want to. In any case, I can not afford to look over my shoulder at the past. I must focus on what lies before me. And what lies before me is Fort Centurion.

When we finally land, and the door to the hovercraft opens and lets us out, I can see that it is cold up this far north. I am greeted immediately by a gust of freezing wind which chills me to my bones, a cold breeze which is still mixed in with the sweet tasting salt of the Atlantic Ocean. Still, I and the other newly arrived Peacekeepers press on in defiance of the cold.

We are lead to the courtyard, and I see that this fort is an impressive structure capable of withstanding any siege.

Once we are there, we are greeted by the fattest man I have ever seen before.

This man is grey haired, with a stomach unnaturally big and round. He supports himself with a staff that looks like it was carved of native wood, probably because he can not walk otherwise. While he is not wearing armor (it would undoubtably be too small for his ... abundant frame), his uniform hints that he might be the headpeacekeeper of this fort. This causes me to distrust him at first glance: Cray was fat (though not quite as much as is man), and was also a corrupt pedophile.

But, something about _this man_ is telling me he might be different. Perhaps its is his his smile. Nothing about the way he smiles gives any hint to maliciousness or for that matter unpleasant actions. So I should not be quick to judge someone before learning more about him.

There are other things I notice about this man's physical appearance; his hair is black with a bit of grey around the edges. His chest has a few metals, but not so many or so impressive as to make me suspect him of giving them to himself. Most of the metals he has appear to be old, hinting that he earned them in his youthful years.

When he speaks, it is with a booming voice.

"My name is Melvin Dorrien, I am Headpeacekeeper over this fortress and over the the North-Eastern Peacekeeper Fleet. Welcome to Fort Centurion."

As he said this, he gestured with his hand to the fort which is all around us. It had large concrete walls mounted with artillery guns, the bulk of which were pointed toward the Atlantic Ocean.

"In the Districts, you were tasked with defending Panem from internal threats. In the Fortress, the threats which you must keep watch for are external. Across the Atlantic Ocean lies a continent of savage barbarians just waiting to ransack the whole of Panem the moment we let our guard down. I'm sure you all learned in training camp about the battle of the Atlantic."

We all not the affirmative. During training, I remember learning about this stalemate in which virtually the entire Panem Fleet was wiped out.

He continued.

"In the frozen North, there are no Districts. The people here are officially Panem Nationals, but its just easier to call them wildlings. You will all learn in fuller depth about them, but for now be content to remember that for the most part they are our allies. And one more thing; our survival here depends on cooperation."

That at least is one thing that has never changed.


	32. Chapter 32: The Northern Wilderness

Over the next two weeks, we learned a basic overview about Fort Centurion.

Fort Centurion is an ancient Fortress, built long before the dark days (though still not nearly as old as the Acropolis is). It is a massive structure, built of stone and metal and concrete; this structure is situated upon the shore where it overlooks the Atlantic Ocean. The inner wall encircles the Armory, the Barracks, and the Stockpile. The middle wall (officially the outer wall) contains the Inner Defense, the hospital, the Hovercraft airstrip, the dry dock and the wet dock (where a portion of Panem's Navy resides), the Cellblock, and multiple other necessities for any Fortress. The "outer wall" is a wooden palisade that surrounds the fortress; it contains the "castle town". The Castle Town is a large village of wildlings which formed around the fortress for better trading opportunities with the Peacekeepers as well protection from raiders. The outer wall does little more than deter thieves and keep livestock inside, but it keeps the wildlings safe.

We also learn quite a bit about the wildlings.

The northern wilderness, also called unsettled lands, are lands where it would currently be too difficult to establish districts as a result of environmental reasons. Too cold, too wet, too few resources to validate the building of an entire district.

This is not to say nobody lives in the northern wilderness. Wildlings are essentially the sole inhabitants of these cold northern lands, not counting the Peacekeepers in the three Fortresses. The wildlings can be divided into one of two language groups (one of which sounds vaguely similar to the Panem Language), and these two groups can be divided further into clans.

The Wildling Clans can range in size from twenty men and women to a town of three hundred. While each clan is autonomous and independent of each other (apart from a few small alliances), all the wildlings are technically Panem Nationals and therefore under the rule of the Capitol. These clans have a friendly existence with the Peacekeepers in the Fortresses, trading with them and helping lost peacekeepers return safely. In return, we mediate disputes between clans. Most of the clans are our allies. Most of the clans.

There are a few notable exceptions to this.

The Stoneshore clan (called this because they are based on rocky and cliffy shores), for example, is a clan of raiders who feed themselves by sailing up and down the primitive coast in wooden boats and extorting or pillaging costal villages; we fight their raiders wherever we meet them but they hide too well for us to exterminate.

The Burned Men (called this because members of the clan burn part of their body in order to show off their strength), as another example, are like the Stoneshore except that they are based in land and the goal of their raids is to kill (they believe they absorb a portion of the strength of whoever they kill). Like the Stoneshore, we fight them wherever we can but they are too elusive to hammer down.

The Shadow Wolves (called this because they only attack at night and they wear only wolf pelts) are slightly better in that they do not massacre people heedlessly like the Burned Men do. However, they acquire wives by kidnapping women from other clans and raping them. Not only are the Shadow Wolves too scattered and elusive to hammer down, but their villages are also so small in number that they can hide easily.

The Twig Men (this isn't their real name, just what all the other clans call them. They call themselves the Seal Eaters) are not violent. They are however known thieves, and their near-chronic stealing of anything not rooted to the ground has made them enemies of other clans.

The Eastern Bay Men (called so because they are based on the eastern sore of the Hudson Bay) are different in that they are not a clan of warmongers or troublemakers. They hunt and gather like the other clans. But they have a blood feud against the Peacekeepers as a result of one commander going nuts and ordering his soldiers to massacre a village of Eastern Bay Men forty years ago. Despite the fact that this commander and his soldiers were executed by firing squad after a short Court Martial, this clan has still been enemies of the Peacekeepers.

Then there is a group called the Grey Cloaks (three guesses as to why they are called this). They are probably the worst of them all. They kidnap women and girls like the Shadow Wolves, and they massacre villages needlessly like the Burned Men, and supposedly have guns. The reason I say supposedly is that the Peacekeepers are sure this clan is nothing more than a myth used by wet nurses to scare children at night. No Peacekeeper has ever seen a Grey Cloak, so they being mythical is likely.

In any case, only a handful of the clans actively pick fights, let alone are hostile to the Peacekeepers. The majority of them are hunter gatherers who live in relative peace with each other. The clans that are enemies of the peacekeepers are ones that are generally hated by nearly all the other tribes as a result of brutality.

Because we act as a policing element, and because we sometimes trade with or provide gifts to the wildlings, they have been known to respect and assist peacekeepers. This can also be attributed to their idea of hospitality.

We learned all of this so we can survive here.

So far, we are all adjusting well to life here.


End file.
